


Darkness

by CalicoThunder



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bars, Crime, Drinking, Emotional Constipation, M/M, Pining!Keith, Violence and stuff, and Lance is an asshole throuought a lot of this lmao, and drugs, as per Klance, clubs, oh and lots of miscommunication, planetside partying, the two paladins take a break from universe defending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 12:21:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9820358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CalicoThunder/pseuds/CalicoThunder
Summary: Lance is, among other things, exhausted.He's desperate for a chance to break the monotony that comes with defending the universe, and with a reluctant Keith by his side one night, he finally gets it.But Tenebris- the planet with no star, no daytime, where the nightlife never ends- has more in store for them than either Paladin can imagine, and soon Lance and Keith are the spearhead of a criminally-involved escapade that could very well end badly- for them, for Voltron, and for the Universe.(Or, a Canon-divergent Klance adventure with emotional constipation, action, blasters, an alien crime ring, and pining!Keith)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Holy shit.  
> Ive been working on this story for months now, it feels good to get it out there.  
> Just a few things- Thanks for clicking on the story! It means a lot that you're interested in my story.  
> Find me at calicothunder.tumblr.com if you wanna chat!  
> Lance is a total asshole for a lot of this, I won't lie- I wanted to toy with the extent to which his attitudes can go sometimes. It's not abusive or anything, just fyi if that bothers you.  
> Lastly, this takes place somewhere before season two, or at least, that's when it was written lmao.

Keith, Lance will admit, is pretty. 

 

Most of it comes from the face. A scimitar chin, complemented by a jawline that’s been chiseled by Michelangelo himself. Those beautiful cheekbones, high and hidden under baby-smooth pale skin. That slim nose, slightly crooked from countless hits and a little flattened, too. And of course, those eyes- shining deep purple in the light and slate grey in the dark, as enigmatic as their owner. 

 

More evidence could be found in the body. It helps that Keith is hot, with firm arms that look wonderful to wrapped in, somehow slim but still bulging with muscle. His legs are painfully defined, similar to his arms but longer and more likely to kill you. And there’s that torso, that looks so soft and curvy but is hard as Balmeran crystal and looks like it fits so snugly between two hands. The hair, despite the pitiful mullet, is plush and bouncy (even though there’s no hair product anywhere on the ship) and often sweaty, or, on occasion, matted with blood. The hands on him, normally hidden by his gloves, are rough and callused at the base of each finger, even moreso on his sword hand. 

 

Basically, Keith is really attractive, and Lance isn’t blind. The Red Paladin’s personality and social skills may be a bit rusted over, but the body holding them is, aptly, out of this world. 

 

Lance comes to this conclusion one night as he’s stalking the long and tall halls of the Castle, trying to wear out the insomnia that’s taken deep root in the base of his skull since they got here- to space, that is. 

 

There’s no time system onboard the Castle, because there’s more important things for Pidge to work on than tweaking every clock on the massive ship, so generally bedtime comes after a mission or training session, unless the ship is docked somewhere. This means there’s no curfew, either- not that Lance would willingly adhere to any code of law imposed by Shiro or the two Alteans anyway. 

 

So come bedtime, when everyone else settles down, Lance gets about as alive as he can, unrestricted by propriety and the need to be mature. Tonight finds him leaning on the doorway of the training room, watching Keith battle it out with the Gladiator. 

 

He’s clad only in his black pants, shirt and jacket discarded on the floor in order to increase his cat-like mobility. He’s got his sword, of course, gloved hands gripping it as he swings wildly at the training bot, desperate to break his defense. It’s no secret that Keith practices with the bot on the highest level- but what was kept under the radar, until tonight, was that he loses to it. Often. 

 

The Gladiator knocks him back when he squares up to it, batting his sword away with uncanny speed at every attempt at a block. Lance muses, idly, that none of the enemies Keith could possibly face would ever be this advanced in close combat. 

 

A final flourish results in Keith’s bayard skittering across the floor, rendering him defenseless as the robot moves in for the kill- nothing is sacred on a Level Five training deck. 

 

Lance’s voice is dull and a little serrated when he calls out, “end training sequence,” and the bot dissolves into motes of light in a flash. Keith looks surprise for a fleeting moment, and maybe a little relieved- but then he whirls towards the door, ready to slaughter whoever saw him get his ass beat. 

 

“Lance, what the fuck? I’m trying to train. Shouldn’t you be asleep?” 

 

“Shouldn’t you?” Lance counters lightly, not nearly as venomous as Keith was trying to sound. 

 

“I’m busy, okay?” Keith walks towards his clothes with a huff, shaking droplets of sweat from his body before grabbing a white towel off the ground to wipe himself off. 

 

If Lance is biting his lip at the sight, he pretends that he isn’t. “Busy getting your ass beat, dude.” Lance offers a lazy smile, which Keith takes with an over-the-shoulder glare and a few swallows from his water bottle, throat working slowly and audibly. 

 

“You couldn’t last a minute on level five, so don’t even start with me.” Keith snips after he drains the bottle. He grabs his stuff off the ground, all bundled in his arms, and makes his way towards Lance a little hesitantly. 

 

“You’re probably right- and if I didn’t have more important things to talk to you about, I’d get in there and prove it.” Lance shrugs, stepping aside and gesturing for Keith to use the door first. 

 

Keith casts him an odd side-eye as he trots through the door. “What do you mean?” 

 

Lance just shakes his head, falling into step with the Red Paladin as they trudge back towards their rooms. “Not here.” He stops suddenly, turning to face Keith fully. “Go shower and stuff, and meet me on the bridge after?” He pulls it into a question as Keith’s resting frown solidifies. 

 

“Why?” Keith quirks an eyebrow. 

 

“Just do it, okay? And, uh, don’t get caught.” Lance says. “I’m gonna grab a snack.” 

 

And with that he trots off, leaving a confused and encumbered Keith in his wake. 

 

\--

 

Keith does, in fact, meet him on the bridge, ten minutes later and dressed in a fresh outfit. His hair is darkened with excess water, and his skin is a soft shade of pink in the blue lights of the room. 

 

Lance is at the hologram panel, filtering through random bits of critical information that he probably doesn’t need to see, when Keith walks through the door silently. He lifts his tanned hand in a small salute, which Keith doesn’t recuperate. 

 

“You wanted to talk?” The Red Paladin says, a sheen of indifference sliding off him in attempt to repel Lance. 

 

“Yes, actually,” Lance replies, before whisking away the report he was reading and materializing the map of the universe. The room is plunged into darkness, save for the stars outside the giant windows, floating by airily. 

 

“Spit it out then, it’s late.” Keith says, but Lance knows damn well the pale boy isn’t sleeping anytime soon. 

 

“Let me ask you, Keith,” Lance walks around the circular terminal from which the small blue stars are being painted on the air, “do you ever get bored?” He hops up to sit on the edge of the projector, obscuring a portion of the hologram from view. 

 

“Bored? How do you mean?” Keith asks, and Lance feels a twinge of satisfaction that Keith was willing to hear him out. 

 

“Like, we have a job up here, and that’s to save the universe. We fight, and kill, and battle the Galra, pushing them back and protecting people one planet at a time.” Lance points his head to the impossibly high ceiling. 

 

“Yes, that is our job, Lance.” Keith says flatly, but his eyes seem mildly interested, at least. 

 

“But what about us? Like, what about our protection and our freedom?” 

 

“...That doesn’t make sense. We have a job to do, we’re the only ones who can. Who needs protection when you have a giant robot lion to blow everything up for you?” Keith makes a mini explosion with his hands, and it’s the most expressive thing Lance had ever seen him do. 

 

“What I mean is, yeah, we’re fighting and doing our job- but at the end of the day, it’s just our job. It’s work, we do it, and then we come back here and do it all over again the next day. There’s no freedom for us, no flexibility in schedule- just monotony.” 

 

“Don’t hurt yourself with those big words, Lance.” Keith teases, but his features have fallen into something much more curious than before. 

 

Lance ignores him. “I’m bored, Keith- I want a break. Even if just for a little while, one night even. Just… a break.” He finishes by facing the stars, both holographic and real. 

 

“I think I get you, Lance.” 

 

_ He doesn’t.  _

 

As long as Lance had known Keith, including pre-Kerberos and pre-expulsion, Keith was best described as by the books. He did everything according to what he felt was his duty, and yes, sometimes that went out of line with whatever’s supposed to be in control of him, like defying Iverson on a hunch that Shiro was somehow alive. (Though, he was technically right about that, so…). Keith is more than a pretty face, Lance knows. He cunning and reckless at times, but his instincts are undeniably good and his reflexes sharp. What stumps the Blue Paladin about Keith however, is this: If he’s such a great spearhead, then why does he have that stick up his ass? Why does he breathe out a soft “yes, sir” when Shiro gives them an order? Why is he the only one to slightly bow when Allura enters the room? 

 

_ How does he follow orders, yet disobey at the same time?  _

 

It’s a mystery to Lance, one he aspires to solve- if he can just get the Red Paladin himself on board with it. 

 

“Really?” Lance displaces his analytically gaze from Keith’s uncomfortable shifting shoulders. 

 

“Yeah. But this specific job isn’t like what you’re thinking. This isn’t ‘work’, Lance this is the entire fate of the free universe resting on five pairs of shoulders. There is no break from this, it’s unfeasible.” Keith chides, but his tone isn’t aggressive or scolding. He’s just stating fact. 

 

_ He sounds like Shiro.  _

 

“Okay, I hear you,” Lance replies, grunting as he hops off the terminal, stepping towards Keith, “we don’t have time for a break- that doesn’t mean we don’t deserve one.” 

 

He stops a few feet away, hands clasped together and eyes expectant. 

 

“I don’t… What do you want from me?” Keith asks, observant as ever. 

 

Lance breaks the eye contact and turns back to the projector, running his fingers along the rim as the holographic map accentuates his expression. He doesn’t know why he’s suddenly a little nervous- this idea’s been rooting around in his head for months, and he’s confident he can get Keith to say yes, but… 

 

“Let’s take a break, you and me.” 

 

The words hang in the air, higher and denser than the flecks of light orbiting the center of the room. Keith’s blush spills down his neck, and Lance finds a little bit of contentment in how easy it was to make that happen. 

 

“Um… L-like, like uh…” Keith clears his throat, ever the wordsmith, and when he speaks again his pitch is considerably lower. “No- uhm, no. No way, Lance.” 

 

Lance’s first reaction is to roll his eyes, because despite how pretty the kid is, Keith is too damn obvious. 

 

“I don’t mean it like that, Keith. Relax, I just think you could use a break, after working so hard and everything.” Lance ends Keith’s suffering, if not just to save time. 

 

“Why don’t you ask Hunk?” Keith asks, features returning to their flat neutrality. His shoulders relax, as if he’s relieved. 

 

“Please, after the last time we snuck out, he’d never come along. Besides, he’s too goody-goody.” Lance says, barely noticing the way Keith’s jaw has fallen open. 

 

“Wait, you want to sneak out? Of the Castle?” 

 

“Well, I did, but now you’ve yelled the entire plan to the universe.” He gestures to the hologram. 

 

“Where would you even go? How would you get there?” Keith challenges, the bridge of his nose twitching like he wants to pinch it. Lance can practically hear the ‘Lance, you’re an idiot’ that’s about to slip out like punctuation. 

 

The Blue Paladin’s face lights up at that, and he beckons Keith over towards the projector eagerly. “Check this out. I was hanging with Hunk and Pidge after training today-” 

 

“You mean you were annoying Hunk and Pidge while they were working.” 

 

“-and I heard them talking about a nearby planet. Wouldn’t even need a wormhole to get there.” 

 

Keith is silent for a minute, then, “That doesn’t make sense. We’re drifting in deep space right now, we’re not in a solar system. There can’t be any planets.” 

 

“Hunk and Pidge aren’t wrong- and neither are you.” Lance turns away excitedly, leafing through holographic pages until the universe disappears, replaced by a single black orb hovering above the projector, spinning gradually. “This is Tenebris, an extrasolar object of planetary mass. In other words-” 

 

“It’s a planet with no star…” Keith says, eyes on the hologram with a surprising amount of wonder. 

 

“I snatched the coordinates and info from Pidge’s desk after she left the room, and apparently, the entire planet is heavily populated and a booming hub for entertainment.” 

 

“Why would anyone want to live there? It must be freezing.” 

 

Lance nods forcefully, but he’s still smiling. “Negative 354 degrees Celsius, naturally, but due to the populace and traffic and stuff, it’s just about 0 in the cities. And why go there? Because it has no daytime, Keith- the nightlife never ends!” 

 

Lance finishes with a small laugh, remembering the rush he used to get from sneaking out of the Garrison for a night on the town. Clubs, booze, people- the Blue Paladin lived for the nightlife, even if it meant breaking a few rules to get to it. 

 

“You’re crazy,” Keith says, but he’s still not angry, or even that teasing anymore. “You must be really crazy if you wanna go there. And even crazier if you think I’m going with you.” 

 

“Keith, we  _ have _ to go see this place. Shiro and Allura would never let us. As tight as me and Coran are, even I couldn’t stand to be out with him for a whole night, especially not in public. Pidge is too busy, and she’d be uncomfortable anyways. And like I said, the last time Hunk and I snuck out to go somewhere, we ended up in space with Voltron and an alien Princess, so he’s not really about it anymore.” Lance whines, waving his hand out towards the pictured planet with agitation. 

 

“Lance, no. What if we get caught? Shiro would never let us out of his sight again. And there’s no way I’d leave Red unattended to go party it up at some bar with you.” 

 

Lance rolls his eyes. “We wouldn’t take the Lions, dumbass, I have a pod ready to go.”

 

Keith looks unimpressed. “I don’t know about you, Lance, but I don’t want to be castrated by Allura and hung from the ceiling until I die.” 

 

Lance sighs hotly, planting his hands on Keith’s shoulders dramatically. 

 

“Dude, you’re Keith fucking Kogane! Since when do you care about rules? You’re the guy who sneaks onto Garrison computers, drives strangers off cliffs on your bike, and weaves his ship through asteroids like it’s knitting time with grandma. Who cares if you get caught, man, just live a little!” 

 

“No, Lance,” Keith says, but the Blue Paladin can tell he’s starting to crack in his resolve. 

 

“Keith, buddy- you work too hard. You’re gonna fall sick someday, from overexertion or something, and you won’t be any help to us then, so don’t tell me there’s better things to do. You  _ need _ to learn how to relax, wind down, or you’ll die one day having never really lived.” 

 

The stars in the windows twinkle brightly, bouncing back between blue and purple eyes. “Save your cheesy speeches, Lance. By the time we get there and get back, everyone will know we’re gone, and we’ll be caught.” Keith grumbles. 

 

“No. If you listened at the post training briefing today, Shiro said we have tomorrow off, so as long as our Lions are here they’ll have no reason to think we’re not on the ship.” 

 

“They’ll notice the missing pod, then.” 

 

“Not when they see this hologram that I snatched from Pidge, a full-scale exact replica of a pod. She made it for the express purpose of fooling Coran and Allura. Any other excuses?” 

 

Keith’s eyes narrow at Lance’s bravado, but he’s starting to look pretty sold on the idea, and he may be leaning into Lance’s hands, just a bit. “I’m not sure I really want to go?”  

 

Lance scoffs. “I had no idea it would be this hard to get Keith, the impulsive, reckless, Red Paladin, to sneak out for a little fun. You know you want to come, Keith.” And Lance decides to play a little low and dirty, moving to brush across Keith’s jaw with his fingers (at the risk of getting them bitten off). Keith’s eyes flutter shut automatically, and Lance knows he has him. 

 

_ I’m also an asshole- but, whatever.  _

 

“I- I guess, Lance. I’ll come.” Keith breathes, letting Lance’s hands soothe him for a second more before stepping back gruffly. 

 

“Hell yeah!” Lance cheers, smile splitting his face.

 

“But-!” Keith puts up a finger. “I’m only staying for an hour. Then we’re coming back.” 

 

Lance balks at him, peeling out of his celebration to knit his brows together. “An hour? No way, dude, we’re not going all that way just for an hour. We’re going for a whole night, like I said at the beginning.” 

 

It’s Keith’s turn to scoff then. “There’s no daytime there, genius. I don’t think so. Two hours at most.” He turns to leave, but Lance grabs him again, pulling him in close. 

 

“How about six hours, half a night. Please?” Lance pouts. If he was an asshole before, this is bringing his exploitation skills to a new level. 

 

He pinpoints the exact moment when Keith gives in to his puppy-dog look, because the Red Paladin sighs into the space between them exasperatedly. “Fine, Lance. Six hours.” 

 

Lance nods a few times, lips giving way to a white-teeth smile. “No more, no less.” 

 

“Let me find my armor.” Keith says, slithering away and towards the door, but not before Lance lets out the most amused and fed-up sigh in the history of all time. 

 

“Keith. What part of ‘fun’ are you not getting?” 

 

Keith turns back around, concerned. “But if we don’t have our armor and bayards, we’ll be open to attack.” 

 

“Keith, it’s a planet with a non-stop party and no daytime. We’re going there to join in. We don’t need to be armed to the teeth.” 

 

The Red Paladin looks thoughtful for a moment, and then concedes to Lance grumpily. “Honestly, I shouldn’t have said yes. If we get hurt down there, it’s your fault.” 

 

“Too late Keith, no takebacks. And besides, we won’t get hurt, I promise.” 

 

“Lance…” 

 

“Keith, shut up and trust me.”

 

And with that, Lance walks them to the pod hangar. 

 

\--

 

_ This,  _ Keith thinks,  _ is a bad, bad idea.  _

 

He can tell by the way a thousand cocoons explode in his stomach the moment they step onboard the pod, fluttering around to a point where he almost overhauls the controls and returns them to the Castle. 

 

It’s a bad idea- he knows it is, and he hates it. He hates that he’s afraid for some reason, he hates that Lance convinced him to do this, and he hates that no matter how uncomfortable he gets, he’ll never be able to say no to the Blue Paladin. 

 

He remembers Lance’s eyes, that pleading hope and the desperation, and the way he’d caressed Keith’s face like it was no big deal. Sneaking away from the Castle is a huge fucking deal, especially if it gets attacked, or worse- if Allura initiates a wormhole jump without two of their Paladins on board. And on top of that, it’s still totally possible that Lance or himself could get hurt, or lost, or captured on such an unfamiliar planet, without armor or proper weapons, and without backup-

 

_ Shit, I’m starting to sound like Shiro. _

 

When did Lance become so clever? To hatch such a daring plan in a single day was impressive, in a way- but Keith had always known that Lance was much smarter than people gave him credit for. An idiot savant with that silver tongue, telling Keith that he needed to ‘live before he dies’. Trying to tell Keith who he is, what he needs, showing concern. 

 

An idiot savant whose hand is suddenly covering Keith’s on the seat between them in the small cockpit, spotted with light from the stars around them. 

 

“Keith, you seem nervous. Are you really that scared?” The Blue Paladin asks, half flying the ship and half looking at his passenger with wide eyes. 

 

“I’m not scared,” Keith is quick to say, “just a little worried. A lot can go wrong here.” 

 

Lance tuts, flicking his tongue against his front teeth. “If you keep thinking like that, you won’t have any fun, and all this will have been a waste. Lighten up a little, yeah?” 

 

“It’s not that easy, Lance.” Keith snaps, pulling his hand free to rub down his face, trying to convey his stress. 

 

It’s quiet for a moment. “Want to go back, then?” 

 

Keith looks at Lance gingerly. Those blue eyes of his are pools of daring, with a hint of concern and an underlying sense of disappointment that Keith probably shouldn’t feel guilty for. 

 

He swallows. “No, no. You’re right. Once we get into things, I’m sure I’ll relax.” Keith promises, nodding a few times to himself. 

 

“This is so unlike you, Keith,” Lance muses. “Afraid and nervous. You’re reminding me of Hunk in the flight simulators, back in the day.” He brings his discarded hand back up to the dashboard, enlarging the screen that says they’ll break atmosphere at Tenebris in a little over five minutes. 

 

“I’m not scared, Lance. Just… wary.” 

 

Lance side eyes him. “Right…” 

 

_ Whatever,  _ Keith thinks, desperate for the conversation to end. 

 

The truth is, he knows exactly why he’s so out of character, and the answer is a tall, tan boy with brown hair and blue eyes sitting next to him.

 

His long-standing crush was hardly a significant topic to him anymore; by now it was more an official lobe of his brain than anything else. He was used to the wild heartbeat and sweaty hands around the Blue Paladin, and used to his flirtatious antics and woeful sense of humor- all of it. Lance made Keith want to fit a bill, and whether changing himself for someone else was a bad thing or not, he figured it didn’t really matter when there were only six other people he had to interact with regularly. Lance just  _ had _ to call him boring, make fun of the stick in his ass, and pressure him into coming like Keith has never smiled in his life. He’s got Keith whipped, whether he knows it or not, and as a result Keith wants to show Lance that he can have fun, and he will. 

 

He looks forward, out the windshield. If he didn’t know where they were going, he’d say that there’s nothing but more space in front of them- but gradually, as the timer on the dashboard ticks down, a hemisphere of black is streaking across from the bottom, with freckles of yellow light dotted across it. A planet, with no sun, no daytime, no light, and no time.

 

“Is there native life on the planet?” Keith finds himself asking. 

 

“Not according to Pidge’s scans, all the settlers are from elsewhere. I do have some good news, though.” Lance says, eyes trained ahead. 

 

“Oh?” 

 

“The Galra don’t know about this place. It’s only occupied by free, regular people.” 

 

For some reason, that makes Keith feel worse. 

 

\--

 

Lance lands the pod on at a spaceport, somewhere on the edge of the largest city on the planet. The lights on the pod are the only form of measurement for how far the surface is, or what it looks like, or if there’s even anyone manning the spaceport itself. The only other source of light comes from the city; greens, purples, and reds dance across the skyline like an atmosphere, proving to be the missing sun. 

 

The buildings are hard to make out in the nighttime, only outlined by their illuminated edges and thousands of windows- but even so, Keith can make out a metropolitan skyline very reminiscent of cities on Earth. Little speeders and ships fly on designated airways through the place, flashing lights too discolored to be shooting stars, even when plastered against the night sky. 

 

When the pod is landed and shut down, Keith and Lance remain still for a moment, taking in the sight before them. 

 

“This is it,” Lance says, sounding like a child at a theme park, “you ready to party?” 

 

Keith looks at Lance’s smile, shining brightly in the dark cockpit, and he starts to think that maybe this really won’t be as bad as he thought. He whips out a timer that he’d used many times for training, a little Altean gadget that Pidge hooked up to count time in seconds. He sets it to six hours. “Yeah.” 

 

They exit the pod. 

 

It’s fucking  _ cold _ outside. Keith feels the chill first, even in the long metal hollow of the open-ended spaceport. He pulls his cropped jacket around him tighter, cursing Lance for telling them to leave their protective armor behind. Lance leaves his green and grey hoodie unzipped, facing the breeze head on, unaffected. 

 

“Let’s go.” He says, and begins walking with a spring in his step that Keith will never understand. He follows like a dog. 

 

It takes them an embarrassing amount of time to fumble out of the spaceport, after asking three different aliens for directions and accidentally finding the pod again. When they do leave the facility, after weaving through dozens of other large spacecraft, it’s through a set of double doors that open to the city streets. 

 

And instantly, it’s like they’re on another planet. 

 

Warmth and sound erupt from the streets and alleyways, as if the city was actually all covered, somehow- it’s hard to believe the effect that light pollution can have. The sky, as it’s seen between the tight, grey metal buildings, is a warmer shade of black, with a million less stars dotted across it. 

 

There’s groups of aliens everywhere, walking on sidewalks, floating by in speeders and hover cars, talking in windows and restaurants- all shapes, sizes, and colors like a proper universe should be. The rise in temperature seems to be a result of the crowds, as if all of them laughing and singing into the air is what warms everyone up. 

 

And Lance and Keith are a part of that, now. 

 

“This reminds me of Earth.” Lance says immediately, and that same smile is still stretching ear to ear. He starts walking down the street directly in front of them, eyes bright and friendly. “You ever been to New York, Keith?” 

 

Keith looks much more menacing, mouth pulled into a soft frown as throngs of people walk by. “No.” He answers, tensing when a citizen knocks into his shoulders while trying to slip by. 

 

“It’s a lot like this. Very close and crowded, buildings that touch the sun… I went once, when I was in middle school.” Lance says, moving like he has a destination in mind. 

 

Keith continues to look around as they make their way deeper into the city, suspicious of everything- but he notices Lance looking at him oddly, beckoning him closer. 

 

“What now, mullet?” 

 

“Shouldn’t we remember where we parked? I don’t want us to get lost.” Keith says, ignoring the nickname in favor of watching the bright spaceport sign shrink smaller and smaller behind them. 

 

“Y’know, Keith, I’m running out of shitty pep talks for you. We’ve gotta find somewhere for you to loosen up.” Lance’s pace quickens. 

 

“Do you have any clue where we’re going?” 

 

“Nope, just following the music. Come on, I bet it’s a club.” Lance sings, and Keith barely has time to register the faded beat of electronic music playing underneath the thrum of the streets before Lance is grappling his arm and tugging him away, into the unknown. 

 

\--

 

Lance is absolutely right (of course he is), and Keith finds it a little absurd that the Blue Paladin managed to find an saloon based off random music that he heard in the street. Either way, the place is swinging when they arrive, full of laughter, music, and enough weird looking alcohol on the bar to fill a rocket’s fuel tanks. All of the furniture, the floor, and the windows are varying shades of brown, making the place look like some backwards abstract western saloon- but Keith finds that it’s a pleasing aesthetic, when coupled with Lance’s cheerful face. 

 

“Fuck yeah, it’s like pre-game.” The boy says, threading through the crowded tables until he finds two open stools on the bar. He slips onto one haphazardly, and his jacket slips off a shoulder in the process. He doesn’t fix it. 

 

“Like what?” Keith asks, sitting on the other stool. 

 

“Pre-game, like when you drink before- forget it, Keith.” Lance mumbles, but he’s still got that quirk in his lip that hasn’t settled since Keith agreed to all of this. He looks stunning in the warm, golden lights of the bar. 

 

“Don’t get all testy because I’m not a fuckboy like you.” Keith teases. 

 

“You’re the fuckboy here, buddy.” Lance shoots back, waving down the busy bartender right after. 

 

“Lance, how in the world am I a fuckboy? I’m like, the furthest thing away from a fuckboy you could get.” 

 

“It’s the mullet, mullet. You’re a fuckboy born in the wrong generation, like Bruno Mars.” 

 

“Did you just call me Bruno Mars?” Keith asks, and he feels his mouth twisting into a smile that he fights vigorously. 

 

“You’re like, an eighties fuckboy. A Gen-X fuckboy, a-  _ ooh _ !” He snaps his fingers, face lighting up. “I got it. You’re a  _ proto _ -fuckboy.” 

 

“Well, that just makes me sound like a bad movie title.” 

 

“It suits you.” Lance looks away with a little shrug, to see where the bartender has gone. 

 

Keith lets out his first laugh of the night, complemented by an easy punch to Lance’s shoulder. “You’re an ass.” He says. 

 

“And you’re relaxing. God I’m so good at everything. I made Keith laugh, I need a fucking medal.” Lance says, showering himself with affection as the bartender, a sleek metal robot with four humanoid arms, plants two drinks down in front of them mechanically. 

 

“And I need this fucking drink,” Keith says, grabbing the purple space beer and sipping it slowly. It tastes similar to fruit punch, with a little burn from the alcohol and an unnecessary amount of carbonation. 

 

“It’s like foam in my mouth.” Lance states after his first sip. 

 

“How are we paying for this?” Keith says, trying to sound as unworried as possible. 

 

Lance just smirks at him, setting his drink down to fish a small, holographic card out of his pocket. “I may have borrowed Coran’s credit card from his room before I came to get you earlier.” 

 

“We’re so fucked when we get back,” Keith says, but he finds himself laughing as Lance waves the card around a few times. 

 

_ He’s right _ , Keith thinks,  _ I am relaxing. This is sorta…  _

 

He looks at Lance, who’s poking his tongue between his teeth as he tries to read the Altean on the card for no reason whatsoever. 

 

_ Nice. It’s nice.  _

 

And a small voice tells him that alone time with Lance is something he’s always wanted, something he should cherish- but he squashes that down and forgets it. 

 

_ Enjoy what I have, don’t take it for granted. It’s that easy.  _

 

They talk aimlessly for a little while, building up a pleasant buzz in both of them, only stopping to order more drinks or go to the bathroom. Keith learns that Lance is a lot more than dumb humor- he’s wisecracking and cunning, pretty headstrong and even a little selfless, if the stories of home are anything to go by. Keith tells Lance about his own foster care childhood, his favorite house that he ever lived in, what he did for fun, even a little bit about how he survived in that shack in the desert- but he steers clear of that topic pretty fast. 

 

Just after that, Lance breaks away from their conversation to go to the bathroom, and Keith nods as he walks away. When he looks down at the timer in his jacket pocket, he discovers that only an hour has passed since they landed- and honestly, he’s relieved that there were still five more to be had here. 

 

“Things are going better than I thought,” He says to himself after a long sip, but that sentiment is completely ruined when he cocks his head towards where Lance disappeared, wondering why the Blue Paladin was taking so long. Lance is standing just outside the bathroom, leaning onto a booth that sits next to it- and occupying the booth are three very pretty, decidedly female, blue skinned aliens, enjoying their own assorted drinks and engaging with Lance animatedly. 

 

Lance says something and they all laugh, covering their smiles with slim, strong-looking hands. One of them slides closer to her friend, patting the space on the seat she’d just made, and Lance falls into it easily, without so much as a second glance towards his original companion. 

 

Keith sees red. 

 

Well, more accurately, he sees red through green. 

 

The glass in his hand trembles as he clenches it, space prom punch threatening to spill onto the bar- but he doesn’t care, shaking his death stare away from the group and back to the smooth surface of countertop, untrusting of himself. 

 

Of course Lance would do this, how did Keith not see this coming? Lance is  _ Lance _ , he’s flippant and selfish and a total douche sometimes, and it doesn’t take a genius to see that. A few stories from Varadero and a pint of weak-ass purple beer won’t make Lance a better person- and not for the first time, Keith finds himself wondering why he’s into Lance in the first place. 

 

_ Lance isn’t a bad person. _

 

The logical side of Keith’s brain, as neglected as it usually is, manages to speak out. Lance isn’t a bad person, he’s just a little tactless- unaware of the damage he does to people around him sometimes. 

 

Keith tries to justify the casual arm Lance throws over a blue girl’s shoulder with that reasoning, to little avail. 

 

_ Either unaware, or he really doesn’t care.  _

 

His emotions get ahold of the megaphone in his mind, spinning tales of how awful and ignorant Lance was being, especially in the situation the two Paladins are in. Keith’s crush isn’t the most subtle, as even Coran had told him before, and Lance’s flirty banter and teasing touches were enough indication that he himself knew, and loved the attention- a trait of Lance’s that Keith wasn’t very fond of. Lance is no more secretive about how attractive he finds Keith, if the too-long looks and infuriating physical contact were being read right. It’s not the first time someone’s been blatantly attracted to Keith, but it is the first time it’s been someone he likes back- 

 

_ If Lance even likes you that way. _

 

There’s the logic again, and Keith lets his forehead slam onto the bar when he hears Lance’s high pitched giggles behind him. So Keith and Lance are deadlocked, floating, neither willing to make a move but both stuck in no man’s land. Keith trusts it will work itself out in the long run, so he doesn’t think about it too much- and that’s what he decides he’ll do now, when another chorus of laughter rings in his ears. 

 

_ Who cares? It doesn’t even matter, it’s just tonight- nothing will happen, Lance will strike out like he always does, and we’ll go home and everything will go back to normal-  _

 

A warm palm on the small of his back interrupts him. Lance barely looks down to Keith as he calls to the bartender for another round of drinks, for the beautiful women at table three. 

 

“Hey, you see me over there? Working my magic? They love me dude, I’m gonna score in record time-” 

 

Something in Keith snaps. 

 

Suddenly they’re outside the bar, leaving a mess of spilt drinks and slightly bothered customers behind as they emerge into the street, Lance’s wrist crushed by Keith’s iron grip. When they’re face to face again, somewhere near the front door of the establishment, all Keith can see is a confused and irritated Lance, shrouded by the red haze infringing on Keith’s tunnel-vision. 

 

“Keith, what the fuck, man?!” Lance says, flailing his arms in the air. 

 

“You’re so fucking aggravating, Lance- what’re you even trying to do in there?” Keith lets the words hiss out between his grit teeth, trying to calm the incessant twitching in his knuckles. 

 

“Um, exactly what I said- relax, have fun, take a break. What the fuck is wrong with you?” Lance says. 

 

“If I remember correctly,” Keith says slowly, “you said that we’d be having fun together, not leaving each other hanging at the bar like a loser while the other tries to date-rape an alien.” 

 

“Whoa whoa, chill the fuck out- I’m not date-raping anyone, thank you, I’m a perfect gentlemen to those girls. And you can go ahead and pick someone up too, you certainly shouldn’t have a problem, you’re like the hottest thing in there besides me, anyways.” Lance rambles, not stopping to notice Keith’s palm scraping down the side of his face. 

 

“Lance…” The Red Paladin gripes, breath leaving him in an exasperated rush. 

 

“I think I saw a guy who was pretty into you, actually, maybe I could wingman up and-”

 

“That’s not what I’m saying Lance. I’m saying you promised that we’d be spending time together. That’s what I agreed to when I said I’d come.” Keith spits, but he looks down at his boots when he realizes just how petty he’s starting to sound. 

 

Lance, the devil that he is, picks up on it immediately. 

 

“Are you… are you jealous, Keithy-boy?” Lance says, and Keith doesn’t need to look up to see the smug twist of Lance’s mouth that drips arrogance onto all his words. 

 

“I’m not jealous, Lance. You went back on your word.” Keith looks up anyway, trying to retain his angry persona. 

 

“Mmhm. So I suppose you wouldn’t mind if I slipped back in there, right? Since you’re not jealous.” 

 

“I would mind, because that would make you a liar.” Keith counters, but really his tone is all he has going for him, now. 

 

“Aww, is little Keithy smitten? Is he mad because Lance is getting some from someone else?” Lance patronizes, reaching his hands out to squeeze Keith’s cheeks, but the gesture doesn’t last two seconds before Keith is ripping the hands away violently, cheeks reddening with rage. 

 

“You’re such a fucking dick, Lance. You’re a cocky piece of shit- you know what you’re doing, and-” Keith pauses to take a deep breath, blinking slowly- “It’s not even worth it.  _ Fuck _ you Lance, come find me when you grow up.” 

 

And if Lance looks shocked, or confused, or even a little hurt in those deep-sea eyes, Keith doesn’t see it because he marches off into the crowds, deeper into the city and away from Lance McClain. 

 

\--

 

“So, Lance, tell us more about this beautiful ship of yours.” The first girl says, lacing her tone with enough velvet to bake a cake with. 

 

Lance registers the question only after he's thrown another nervous glance at the front door of the bar, out of which Keith disappeared approximately who-knows-how-many minutes ago. 

 

“Yeah, I'm curious. What is it fueled by?” The second girl, the one in the middle, asks. Lance remembers her name is Brel when he turns to her, responding with what he hopes is a cocksure glint to his bared teeth. 

 

“Well, normally it's fueled by Balmeran crystals- but when supplies run low, the captain asks if she can borrow some of my aura. Because it burns so hot.” 

 

The first girl, Tish, laughs unwieldy, covering her mouth with her muscular hand. Brel snickers a little, but the third sister, Nem, remains silent. 

 

Lance takes the moment to scan for Keith again, basing the Red Paladin’s return on some off-chance that he didn't fuck up too badly. 

 

Listen- the cockiness is second nature to Lance. His defense mechanism, his conversation starter (and ender), his source of humor- everything Lance does socially is based around that carefully collected mask that he's made for himself, to hide his true colors behind neon smiles and winks like he's some sort of spatial dick-slinger. 

 

He knew he'd crossed the line with Keith- he'd known before he said it- but there was no way to stop it once he realized how Keith was feeling about all of this, and why he was reacting that way. He'd never thought Keith’s crush was enough to render jealousy from the Red Paladin, especially from an act as simple as hitting on a few hot alien chicks, something he's done in front of Keith many times before in all their travels. 

 

But now, with Keith out there, alone and most definitely lost on the streets of this mysterious planet for- how long has it been, exactly? 

 

“Ladies, pardon the interruption-” he starts, cutting Brel off mid-word, “-but do any of you have the time? I'm supposed to be meeting someone here.” 

 

The girls all stare him down with equally warm eyes, pale silver against their cerulean skin. 

 

“Time? No, sorry. We don't really keep track of that. You can ask the bartender, he might know.” Tish replies after a moment. She tucks herself under where Lance’s arm is slung over the the top of the booth, pressing herself into him. 

 

Lance ignores the tiny, burning question toiling around in the bottom of his skull:  _ what does that mean? _ Instead he focuses on the walls of the bar, searching for some kind of clock- hell, even an analog ticker from his elementary school would do, despite the fact that he can't read it for shit. 

 

Brel comes around the other side of the booth, stepping out to slide in on Lance, curling against his bicep like a dangerously attractive pet. “But you wouldn't want to go so soon, would you? I feel like we're only just getting to the good parts of the conversation. What's your friend like, the one you're waiting for?” 

 

Lance can't answer, because Brel’s face is getting closer and closer to his own as she talks and Tish begins trailing her reptilian fingernails up and down the length of his thigh, tantalizing. 

 

“Um…” he swallows, saving himself from an embarrassing yelp when Tish’s hand falls a little firmer and closer to his inseam. “He's uh, short, and angry. He likes bad music and-”  _ you, idiot, he likes you “-  _ the color red, and he's pretty sharp tongued.” 

 

“Is his tongue sharp for eating his food, or is it simply for accessory?” Brel asks, moving her own hand, identical to her sisters, to Lance’s twitching bicep. 

 

“N-no, haha, it's an expression- it means he's very… very…” he trails off as a warm wetness presses unexpectedly to his ear, where Brel’s breath has been floating for the past minute or so. By the time he realizes it's her tongue, he's already casting his gaze down to Tish’s chest, now pressed fully against him- 

 

And that's when he sees it. 

 

Just above Tish’s left breast is a small but potent mark, seemingly burned into the skin. There are words in a foreign language, disappearing under her shirt- but for some reason, a lot of things click into place for Lance at once. 

 

Nem has been so quiet all night because it's her first time on the job with her sisters and she's nervous, and scared, if the constant looks between the bar and the floor are anything to go by. 

 

The big, white furred alien that's been sitting in the corner all night, face hidden by a menu or a pitch black beer mug, has been watching the girls closely, noting their every move- not drooling over Lance, as the Blue Paladin had assumed. 

 

Brel and Tish are only being so forward and enticing because if they don't, they're in danger, because they must be working for that guy in a fucked up space equivalent of sex trafficking- and Lance was their next job. 

 

Keith is out in the streets all alone, on a planet riddled with crime and other bad shit, most likely, because Lance pushed him to and no normal planet would have that many aliens with blaster pistols holstered on their thighs, right? 

 

_ How did we miss it? How did I not see the guns, the danger- I told Keith he was the hottest in the bar because he  _ was, _ all these guys are tougher than nails and definitely not here to pick up a one-night stand. How come Keith didn't catch it? _

 

And the answer comes as slow as a planet, drifting with no star to orbit.  _ He was focused on you.  _

 

Many things begin to come to a boil inside of him, but the most poignant of all is how he  _ has  _ to get these girls out of here. 

 

He comes back to the present, despite the voice that tells him,  _ even on a break, you're still working.  _

 

_ Kill me.  _

 

“Tish, Brel, Nem.” He says, schooling himself to sound serious enough that the pressure from their hands lessens, and he neglected Nem looks up from her lap, eyes as big as saucers. “I'm gonna try to get you out of here, okay? At the end of all my sentences, just laugh like you have been all night- do it now.” 

 

There's barely a moment’s hesitation before Brel spits some choppy laughter, prompting Tish to join in timidly. Both of their faces remained stretched into those false-promise grins, but their eyes are uneasy. Pleading. 

 

“I'm gonna start a fight, you guys escape out the back door in the meantime. Don't wait for me, I'll be off to find my friend if I get out of here. Laugh now.” 

 

They do, and this time Nem contributes a few giggles and Lance turns a sly eye to the white, ape-like trafficker in the corner. 

 

Part of Lance can't believe the words are leaving his mouth- it's still hard to wrap his mind around the fact that despite his opinion of himself, he's a hero, and a protector- a Paladin of Voltron. 

 

“Lance?” Tish prompts, face so close he can see his dying smirk in the reflection of her eyes. “We’re not sure about this. What if he finds us again, and kills us- it's not like we have anywhere to go.” 

 

He hums before picking his most persuasive tactic ( _ besides exploiting the person’s crush on you,  _ his mind betrays)- asking a simple question. 

 

“Do you want freedom, or destruction? You know which is which.” 

 

It's a line Allura often uses when committed to swaying a neutral or Galra loyal planet’s leader to join the fight against Zarkon, and it works every time. 

 

The three girls make their decision, and Lance hears them loud and clear. 

 

“Thank you, Paladin.” Tish says. Then she nods, and pecks him on the lips without an ounce of seduction. 

 

He smiles with faux-confidence before wiggling his way out of the booth and walking back up to the bar. The bartender approaches him almost instantly, movements jarring and loud. 

 

“Get me the biggest bottle you have- the whole thing, please.” Lance demands. 

 

A massive, leather-skinned rhino-thing scoffs at him from its stool, probably ridiculing the boy’s haughty order.

 

_ My target acquired, then.  _

 

The bartender arrives with the bottle. It's massive, probably the length of Lance’s forearm- but it's smooth and transparent, so he assumes it's glass. 

 

“Here goes nothing,” he breathes, then promptly flips the bottle in his hand and, holding it by the neck, smashes it over the rhino guy’s head like he's seen in every movie ever. 

 

Needless to say, it's instant hell in the bar. 

 

The rhino turns to Lance, who’s just given the remainder of the bottle and it’s deep black liquid contents to the alien behind him, one stool away from rhino guy. All it really takes is a jutted thumb, and rhino lunges at the framed alien like he's going for a touchdown. 

 

Lance immediately ducks out of that situation, only to find that the entirety of the bar has gone up into a riot as three more fights break out uselessly around the establishment. His first instinct is to look at the booth; Tish and her sisters are gone, hopefully free out the back. He finds the trafficker, who's trapped in his corner by a raging scuffle and scanning frantically for his girls. 

 

Lance would laugh at the cliche and comical bar fight if he didn't have to throw himself to the floor to dodge a stray glass sailing through the air, and he resolutely decides that as his cue to leave. 

 

He assumes the fight will last enough time for the girls to get to safety as he slips into the street, blocking out the yells and crashes of barbaric fighting as he scans for any sign of his missing Red Paladin. 

 

He comes up empty. 

 

“Damnit,” he curses, wary of the crowds in the streets and rowdy aliens behind a thin door behind him as a thought pops into his head, in a distinctly Keith Kogane voice. 

 

_ This was a bad, bad idea _ . 

 

He sets off in the direction Keith stormed away in. 

 

There’s more people on the streets, now- or at least, it feels like it as Lance ebbs and flows through throngs of aliens like a serpent, always watching for red leather or black hair. 

 

He checks the inside of open establishments, from peeking through windows to walking down alleys to walking through thresholds and asking managers and patrons if they’ve seen  _ a small, angry, paler version of me, about yea high- _

 

It’s all very tedious. Underlying is that is the thrum of Lance’s ever-tightening nerves, setting him rigid as he scours the massive sprawl for Keith. The whole time he pushes down the loud, obnoxious bubble in his stomach that coldly reminds him of how much of this is his fault-  _ he _ brought them here,  _ he _ left Keith at the bar and pissed off a bunch of alien mercenaries, and  _ he _ watched Keith walk away with a mask of smug courting and a twinge of painful regret. 

 

At some point the thoughts in his head are so near-maddeningly clamorous that he clamps his palms over his ears, hunching over in the street as he tries not to freak out. 

 

“God Keith, where are you, Keith…” He whispers to himself, screwing his eyes shut in attempt to cast all other thoughts away. He can hear, in the distance, more music- from a direction opposite that of the bar. 

 

_ What are the chances…  _

 

If Keith really did just storm off to the next source of music he heard, then he was much more predictable than Lance thought. 

 

_ Only one way to find out. _

 

\--

 

One of the most interesting things about the Universe is its continuity. 

 

Sometimes it’s unsettling to see just how similar intelligent life is to that of Earth, from civilization to laws to organization systems- it’s almost like every sentient species in the universe got the same memo on how to run things. 

 

Either way, it has Keith Kogane marvelling at how similar this nightclub is to one he used to go to, even though he’s not having nearly as much fun now. 

 

That, of course, is because of Lance McClain, and his  _ stupid asshole moral alignment and copious amounts of ignorance- _

 

_ No. We’re not thinking about him. He doesn’t deserve it.  _

 

He lets the image of the Blue Paladin drown in the vibrant lights and alien music, not perturbed by the volume in the slightest. Sure, it’s been awhile since he’d been out like this, but some habits never die- and Keith’s ability to adapt to a loud and overtly social environment lives on, even if a little rusted over. 

 

He’s sitting at another bar, only this one is smaller and made of sleek black metal, like everything else in the club. His back is facing the massive dancefloor, lit by flashing, polygonal shapes in the tiling, almost always covered by jovial footsteps and, occasionally, a hazy blast from the artificial fog machine. The music is upbeat, electronic- and if it didn’t have that groundbreaking bass under it Keith would’ve guessed it was a random collection of robotic sounds. 

 

He finds solace in the swirling, pink liquid at the bottom of his glass. While definitely stronger than the beer from the other bar, this stuff was still pretty light; Keith chose it for his own sake. 

 

_ Getting drunk while alone and on an alien planet isn’t a good idea, no matter how mad at Lance I am.  _

 

A swell of pride tells him that he’s  _ totally _ not impulsive; look at him, thinking through things like an adult. He has great impulse control, unlike Lance had said. 

 

_ Fuck that guy.  _

 

He figures his brooding will have to come to an end at some point in the night- but he’s surprised when it does, not by Lance finding him by some mere miracle (as Keith secretly wanted) but by a stranger coming up to his stool, leaning onto the bar like the same intergalactic casanova with the same generic, flirty smile. 

 

_ Good to know men are the same across the Universe too, _ he thinks.  _ Continuity.  _

 

The alien is tall, and very humanoid. He almost reminds Keith of the swindling Rolo, though this guy is nowhere near as skinny or defeated-looking. In place of skin, he has rippling green scales that cover his back, neck, and arms, leaving his chest and face in pale pink stretches of bareness. He’s wearing a pair of burnt orange, baggy pants with no shirt, and Keith can tell he’s been dancing. His voice is raspy, cutting clear over the music and curling into Keith’s ear. “Hey there, you seem lonely.”

 

“Hey.” Keith gives him a small smile, remembering Lance and those three bimbos at the bar. 

 

_ Two can play at this game.  _

 

“Not lonely,” Keith continues. “Just not really feeling it.” 

 

The alien hums, leaning in presumably to hear Keith better. “Not feeling it? Interesting. So what’s got you down? I’m Erru, by the way.” He extends his long, scaled hand.

 

“Keith,” The Red Paladin responds. He shakes until Erru releases his hand. “Nothing big, really- I got stood up.” 

 

He’s not really sure where his mind is at as he provides Erru with the half-truth, but he does hope he looks somewhat attractive under the wispy lights of the club. As for why- he’s not sure on that either, because it’s a little  _ too _ petty to go this far to piss Lance off. But Keith’s nothing if not a winner, right? 

 

_ Remind me again why you’re even on this planet,  _ his brain poses, but he swallows it down with another sip of his drink. 

 

“Well, that’s just rude. I bet they’re missing out.” Erru says, forked tongue flicking at his lower lip as he slips onto the stool closest to Keith- but not before pulling it closer. 

 

“Oh, I don’t know. I’ve heard I’m quite a stick in the mud.” Keith says, cringing internally at his own words and  _ damn, Lance has had more influence on me then I realized. _

 

“Surely you’re more than that. Wanna dance, maybe get your mind off them?” Erru offers, his voice sultry and somehow fitting, even in the brash, harsh setting of the nightclub. Or maybe that’s just Keith, since this whole place seems to be making him feel lighter, airier without Lance there to constantly barrage his thoughts. 

 

_ Think about what you’re doing, Keith. Don’t walk through that door. _

 

“I think that’s a great idea.” 

 

It’s definitely not, but he gets off his stool anyways. He makes it about half a step before Erru’s hand is wrapped around his wrist, pulling him back gently. 

 

“Hold on there, maybe you should take the edge off first. You won’t have much fun if you’re thinking about that asshole all night.” The alien says, a funny glint in his eye- but Keith has to concede, because Erru is right. 

 

“How do you mean?” He says, careful of the faint switch in Erru’s demeanor. He’s still leaning against the sleek bar, and Keith suspects that if the alien had eyebrows, one would be quirked up, challenging. 

 

“Let me show you something.” Erru says, breaking eye contact to rummage through his spatial pockets. After a moment Keith steps closer, undoubtedly interested despite the small alarm bells starting up in the base of his head. 

 

A small, white capsule is produced from the tangerine pants, now resting in the palm of Erru’s hand. 

 

“It’s just a little something to loosen you up.” That frayed voice purrs, and the alarms are definitely ringing louder now as Keith eyes the pill. 

 

“Drugs?” He asks, suspicious and, whether or not he wants to admit it, a little nervous. 

 

“We prefer to call it a time enhancer, on Tenebris. It’ll make everything amazing, trust me- I’m still coming down right now.” 

 

Keith is so stupid that he actually asks, “How long does the high last?” 

 

“Two hours, if you’re moving and stuff. The stiller you sit the longer it stays in your system.” Erru takes the question flippantly, likely because he’s done this many times before. 

 

Keith, who is defying every inkling of common sense in his brain by even considering this, fishes his timer out of his pocket to stare at it, watching the seconds tick by. 

 

_ Four hours and thirteen minutes, huh?  _

 

Remember what he said earlier about impulse control? Yeah, that’s starting to fall through as he gazes at the pill, amazed at how shocked he isn’t. It should really speak to his character, the fact that he’s willing to take an alien drug from a mildly handsome and overly suspicious alien man just to forget about his crush on Lance- but when opportunity knocks, Keith will always open the door with a flourish. 

 

“Come on, Keith. You did say you weren’t feeling it- this will fix that.” Erru hums, and there’s that tongue again, dancing over his lower lip. 

 

“It won’t hurt me?” Keith asks, praying the answer is yes so he can ditch the idea altogether. 

 

“Of course not. Everyone in here is on it, I assure you. Trust me.” Erru finally crowds in on Keith wrapping his free hand around the Red Paladin’s waist as he pinches the pill between two fingers, in front of Keith’s eyes. He purrs, “Trust me…” 

 

Keith’s final thought before he opens his mouth is,  _ Lance is gonna kill me.  _

 

His jaw drops. 

 

“Keith…” 

 

The pill goes in. 

“Keith.”

 

He swallows. 

 

_ “Keith!” _

 

The last call of his name is, by some deus ex machina, not Erru’s. It’s the very familiar, painfully strained, and too-high-pitched tone of the Blue Paladin, moving through the crowds towards Keith and his alien partner with a number of terrifying emotions on his face- and since when did Lance become the only thing in the Universe Keith was afraid of? 

 

“Keith, what the fuck are you doing?” Lance says as he arrives at the couple, and his stance is poised for battle at the sight of Erru. 

 

“Lance, I-” Keith starts, but halts abruptly. What was he about to say? Was he sorry for running off like that? Was he angry for Lance being such a dick? Was he starting to feel funny, like a smooth fog was rolling over his brain? 

 

“Is this the guy who stood you up, Keith?” Erru says, still keeping the Red Paladin wrapped in his arms. 

 

“Wait, what? Stood him up- I didn’t-” 

 

Keith just nods, resting his head against Erru’s chest as the fog permeated his mind, growing thicker and stronger with every passing minute. Erru was so warm and rigid on his scales, like a pet or the hard shelling of a computer. 

 

“Fuck off buddy, you missed your chance. Find someone else.” Erru says, turning Keith away from Lance in a display of protection that Keith doesn’t have the capacity to fully appreciate at the moment. But, wasn’t he supposed to be mad at Lance for… something? He shrugs, burrowing further into the warm heat of the alien as if to tuck into bed. 

 

“Um, I don’t fucking think so-” Lance yanks on Erru’s thick shoulder, turning the alien and Keith back around in a jarring movement. Keith stumbles a little, eyes falling on Lance’s face. 

 

“Lance!” He says, and a grin splits across his features almost painfully. “I’ve been waiting for you… Have you met my new friend, Evoo?” 

 

Both the Blue Paladin and the alien ignore him, opting to stare each other down instead. 

 

Keith feels so fluttery. Like he could float on all the wisps of fog that drawl across the dancefloor, lighting up in all those pretty hues. His hands are grasping something warm and comfortable, and he knows for a fact that if he let go he’d fly up and away, to be with the stars. Something like  _ time _ or  _ sun _ passes through his head, but he can’t really focus on it as the warmth in his hands shifts, pulling away. 

 

“What did you do to him, asshole?” The voice is Lance’s, Keith knows that even if he’s about to melt into one of the luminescent tiles on the floor. 

 

“Helped him relax after  _ you _ fucked him over. He’s with me now, so back off.” The words are coming from the same place his warmth does, Keith can tell because of the way it bends and fluxes under his fingers as the words come out. Who is who again?

 

“As if.  _ You _ back off, or I’ll-” Lance’s threat falls flat as Keith’s warmth disappears completely, replaced by chilly air and a lot of bright lights. The music that pumps into his ears is dull and muted, like he’s hearing underwater- wouldn’t it be nice to live underwater?

 

“Yeah? Okay, whatever. Tell him I’ll be there soon.” The not-Lance voice says, followed by a “Lucky you. Don’t let him out of your sight.” There’s some nearly-inaudible _ tap-tap-taps, _ and then it’s just Lance, standing right in Keith’s cone of vision. 

 

“Lance!” Keith exclaims again, feeling his lips stretch. “It’s been forever since I’ve seen you. Isn’t this planet so fun?” He attributes it all to his floatiness, lifting his hands like a zombie would in attempt to levitate. 

 

“Uh, Keith…? Are you okay?” Lance says, but Keith doesn’t know why his brows are furrowed, or why his eyes aren’t as bright as usual. 

 

“Yeah, man… I’m just feeling it, y’know?” Keith replies, stepping forward to plant his hands on Lance’s shoulders involuntarily. 

 

“Are- Are you drunk, Keith?” Lance asks, and now Keith spots the beginnings of a smile on his face. 

 

“Nope, I’m a responsible Paladin. I’m just relaxing from my pill, is all.” He says, remembering that he swallowed something at some point, from a green hand. His eyelids alternate from closed to open, and his feet are stepping side to side in a trance. 

 

“What? Are you on fucking drugs, Keith Kogane?” Lance says, and he’s definitely got that sexy smile on his face that makes Keith blush a little, under normal circumstances. 

 

“I’m high on life, Lance.” Keith says, moving his hands up to either side of Lance’s face. Was Lance always this warm and smooth, like the surface of a pebble on the desert floor? He dances his fingertips up and down Lance’s neck and jaw, feeling it. 

 

“Uh. I don’t think you’re okay, Keith. Maybe we should go? I kinda started a scuffle at the bar, and it turns out this place may be a little more dangerous-” 

 

Keith pushes air through his teeth, shushing his warmth. He finds himself pressed up against Lance’s chest, feeling the heat that seeps through his thin baseball tee. His fingers trail across Lance’s cheeks, risking a slice from those cheekbones before they drag over Lance’s balmy lips, feeling his breath there. “Dance with me, Lance.” He breathes, letting his eyes slip open as he takes in the world around him. 

 

A world that is mostly Lance, set against the backdrop of colors and blurs and bass-heavy beats. The Blue Paladin looks pretty, stunningly so. Why was Keith ever supposed to be mad at someone this pretty?

 

“Keith, I really think we should-” 

 

“You’re the one who wanted to have fun, Lance. Let’s dance.” 

 

The lights in the floor are calling him, beckoning him forwards with smokey fingers and a warm promise that is much too irresistible for Keith. This planet is so fun, why was Keith saying he wanted to stay for only six hours? He could stay forever. Unless he floated away, but Lance wouldn’t let him float away, would he?

 

He mumbles something about two hours as he pulls Lance onto the dancefloor, already moving his legs by the time they’re drifting on the edges of the crowd. He turns back to Lance, who he’d pulled here by the hand. 

 

“I’m glad I came, this place is so fun!” He says, pressing his free palm to Lance’s forehead to try and smooth away the creases in what should be pebble-smooth skin. 

 

“Keith. Let’s just take a moment to-” 

 

The Red Paladin smushes Lance’s face between his gloved palms, smiling at him. 

 

_ “Dance.”  _ He orders, and he smiles wider when Lance complies. 

 

\--

 

_ Well,  _ Lance thinks, baffled,  _ didn’t see this coming.  _

 

It’s safe to say that no one, from Shiro to the Arusians, would have ever thought that Keith Kogane would willingly take space ecstasy and dance at a club. 

 

It takes Lance a minute to get into the swing of things, because he has to suppress the growing knot of anxiety in his gut- after all, the shady aliens in the bar surely weren’t the only ones of their kind on this planet. But Keith’s wildly out of character smiles and dancing finally break Lance, reminding him that this is, in some aspect, what he wanted when they left the Castle. To have fun, not worry about the Galra, for one. Having Keith’s hot and sweaty body flush against his as they danced was an added and unexpected bonus. 

 

Keith steps away from Lance, eyes cloudy with intoxication, to execute a few little twirls in the limited space he has, surrounded by other dancers. He’s had this weird little grin on his face since they started dancing-  _ how long has it been?-  _ and it’s still there as he beckons Lance closer, taunting. 

 

Lance yields to the Red Paladin with his own smile, convincing himself it’s because he wants to dance and overlooking that searing desire to touch Keith again. Keith grabs his hand and reels him into a spin, pressing his chest into Lance’s back in a half-assed tango, before flipping them back out again. He never lets go of Lance’s hand. 

 

_ He’s not that bad, _ Lance thinks, and although he’s loathe to compliment the Red Paladin, Keith’s fluid and lazy movements are still somewhat on beat. 

 

It’s all fun and games. Lance almost forgets Keith is high off his ass; he becomes accustomed to this mirthful and bubbly version of Keith faster than he’d like to admit. 

 

It’s all fun and games, until Keith starts grinding. 

 

Lance is just feeling the music, moving and dancing hand in hand with Keith, when suddenly there’s a firm curve slotted against his hips and his view becomes jet black, messy hair. Somehow he doesn’t foresee the next move- Keith’s square hips drop down, and then roll straight up against Lance’s groin. 

 

Lance gasps, blinking at the sight, but Keith just drops down and does it again. His hands find Keith’s sharp hipbones in an instant, rooting them both there as Keith grinds again. Lance prays his jeans are thick enough to keep his oncoming hard-on at bay. 

 

The song and lights continue on as Keith picks up the pace, really grinding on Lance like they’re in some crummy club on Earth. Lance can’t even take the time to ask where or when Keith learned to dance like this, because the Red Paladin throws a gloved hand over his shoulder to grip Lance’s neck like a lifeline. Lance’s fingers slip under Keith’s black tee, gliding over his hot, sweat-damp skin every time Keith drops again. 

 

One particularly firm grind has Lance moaning, involuntarily, into Keith’s ear, tempted to bite it and pull. At this, Keith appears to inflate with pride, because he does it again and again, each time drawing a lewd noise from the Blue Paladin, until the song fades into something more mellow. Lance feels Keith finally lay off his groin, only to turn around unsteadily and cling to Lance’s shoulders. 

 

And he looks absolutely, beautifully, wrecked. 

 

Strands of his dark hair have fallen out of whatever place they’d been in before, plastered to his flushed, heated face with glistening sweat. His lips are cherry red from worry, but parted just enough to let Lance feel his breath like dragon fire. His eyes- his violet eyes- are blown wide and dilated, letting off a slight glow under the reflection of the lights in the club. 

 

“Keith…” Lance breathes onto Keith’s lips, because that’s all he can say, and the Red Paladin responds by bringing them impossibly closer. 

 

“Lance… Let’s get out of here, yeah?” Keith says, looking up at Lance through his eyelashes. 

 

“And go where?” 

 

“Anywhere. Take me anywhere, Lance.” 

 

Lance sucks in a breath. “I think this is the drugs talking, Keith, you’re still mad at me-” 

 

“Stop talking.” Keith orders, digging his fingers into either side of the open collar of Lance’s jacket and yanking him forward. There’s less than an inch of space between them now. “I said, take me. Anywhere. Take me anywhere.” 

 

The mantra rings in the space between them, and before Lance knows what he’s doing, he’s leading Keith towards the exit by the hand.    
  


_ No matter how he feels,  _ Lance decides,  _ I’m laying waste to this boy tonight.  _

 

“You’re mine.” Lance growls as he tugs Keith through the boisterous crowd in the direction of a neon sign, one that he hopes says ‘exit’. Everything about the atmosphere- the music, the lights, the drinks, the people- it all becomes muted, narrowed down to the feeling of Keith’s rough fingertips resting clammy in his own. By some stroke of luck, tonight is the night he finally  _ has  _ Keith- no Lions, no interruptions, and no damn missions- even if it means resorting to a space brothel just for cheap access to a bed. 

 

As the two Paladins emerge out the door, into the chilly back alley behind the club, Lance wonders vaguely how long they’ve been here, on Tenebris. He almost asks Keith to check the timer- but something, likely the fear of somehow sobering Keith up, stops the words before they leave his mouth. 

 

They’re barely two steps out the door before Keith rears back on Lance’s hand and slams his shoulders into the grimy wall of the alley next to the exit. Lance lets himself be controlled; he finds it hard to say no when Keith’s eyes look like  _ that.  _

 

“Lance.” Keith says, but it’s more a whisper than anything else in their proximity. 

 

“Yeah?” Lance says, gaze locked on the heaving, flushed skin exposed in the V of Keith’s shirt. 

 

The sound of footsteps, rapid, echoes in the alley close by. They both ignore it. 

 

“I want… I want…” Keith says, panting hard enough for Lance to feel the hot air fan across his face to the tips of his ears. 

 

A loud metal crash rings out, closer than the footfalls. They both ignore it. 

 

“What do you want, Keith?” Lance tries, and the anticipation in him is heavy and palpable though he already knows the answer.

 

Keith leans in, to the point where his lips are just tickling Lance’s. “You.” 

 

Then, a lot of things happen at once. 

 

Keith’s drug wears off- Lance sees it in the way the Red Paladin’s eyes return to normal, losing some shine, and his irises flood back in with color. His grip loosens and his body goes rigid, straightening out. 

 

The dark alley in Lance’s peripheral, where it had previously surrounded him and Keith peacefully, explodes in a sudden flash of red and white, followed instantly by the unmistakable sound of a blaster going off. 

 

Two aliens emerge from the club and into the alley, and Lance barely recognizes the one who drugged Keith before they take off towards the blaster shot. 

 

“What's happening?” Keith asks, commanding Lance’s attention. He's gone stiff under Lance’s fingers. “How did we get out here?” 

 

“Umm…” Lance starts, quieting the nasty vibe that the question gives him. “How much do you remember?” 

 

Keith pulls away, backing up against the other wall of the alley and squaring up like he’s itching to run. “I remember you being a fucking dick, and then Erru the reptile guy, and taking the drug. And seeing you come in. After that it's a blur.” 

 

Lance hums. “It's kinda odd that a recreational drug wipes your memory, isn't it?” The thought troubles him. 

 

Keith bites his lip. “The longer we’re on this planet the less safe I feel.” 

 

“No one told you to take that pill.” Lance answers, looking down at the sticky concrete-like floor, covered in trash and suspicious substances. 

 

“Don't you even start with me, Lance. You're not off the hook for that shit you pulled at the bar-” Keith rears back and steps forward as if to throttle Lance, but a clamor distracts both of them. They look down the darkened alley from which the shot had rang out, and two large, bulky figures come out of the shadows, blasters raised. One of them is Erru, his mouth twisted into an interested smirk. The other is a large grey humanoid with marrow-colored patches of skin strewn about him. 

 

“Uh-” 

 

“Lance,” Keith whispers, watching the two newcomers with apt suspicion, “shut your mouth.” 

 

Erru and his companion are just as wary as the two Paladins, but the confident swagger with which they hold their blasters makes Lance feel all the more intimidated. He does as Keith says. 

 

“Hello, pretty Keith.” Erru says. “How'd that drug work out for you?” 

 

Before answering, Keith slides across the alley to Lance’s side, pushing the Blue Paladin behind a waist high, chrome disposal unit. “Pretty well. Felt good. Wore off just when you told me it would.” 

 

Lance eyes Keith as the Red Paladin slips the timer out of his pocket, displaying the screen behind him. Two hours and eleven minutes, as far as Lance can tell. 

 

The new alien brandishes his weapon. “How long have you two been out here?” 

 

“Relax, Yvmo, I’m sure Keith and his…” Erru looks Lance over, “... date, are perfectly innocent.” 

 

“Innocent of what?” Keith asks. With the timer safely tucked away, he uses his arm to curl protectively behind him, as if to shield Lance. 

 

_ Like fuck  _ that's _ happening. _

 

“Well, we may or may not be caught up in-” 

 

“Someone’s dead, right?” Lance says, stepping out from behind Keith. He ignores Keith’s warning grunt. “I heard the footsteps and the blaster shot. Who killed who, hm? A good old fashioned murder mystery?” 

 

“ _ Lance _ .” Keith’s whisper falls unheard on Lance’s ears. 

 

“Something like, actually. One of our associates was just shot, his body’s over there.” Erru jutts a long thumb over his shoulder. 

 

“Did you do it?” The big one, Yvmo, says. 

 

“Excuse me?” Lance tries to act offended, but the two aliens step closer and flick their safeties off, movements almost perfectly in sync. 

 

“We've got more guys on the way, so it's better if you're just honest. Did. You. Do it?” Erru says, getting within arm's reach of the two Paladins. 

 

Lance shuffles next to Keith, feeling coils of fear and adrenaline build up in his gut. He tries to make eye contact, for some kind of plan, because this wasn't funny anymore- now they're here, in real danger, with no Lions or bayards or back-up.

 

_ So much for a nice relaxing break.  _

 

“We didn't kill your man. We don't even know what he looks like.” Keith says, eyes trained on Erru’s blaster, the tip of the barrel just a foot from Keith’s chest. 

 

“We have to be sure.” Yvmo’s baritone rumbles across the tense silence. 

 

Erru huffs. “You’re right.” 

 

Lance starts shaking his head when Keith’s body visibly clenches, preparing for action. Keith is reckless, Keith is obedient, Keith- 

 

_ Keith has a plan.  _

 

“Sorry, boys.” Erru says, and the two aliens point their weapons at the Paladins’ heads. 

 

Lance is only fractionally aware of his own body moving when Keith flings the lid of the disposal unit forward, slamming into Yvmo’s head with a loud crunch.

 

The echo follows Lance as he sprints in the direction from which the aliens had come, along with a strangled “ _ Lance, run! _ ” from Keith. 

 

As Lance’s long legs tear him away from the scene and into the dark, he hopes that Keith can hold Erru off long enough to get away, for Lance to formulate some kind of plan. He heaves as he runs. Blood rushes in his ears. His brain screams at him, faster, faster, and he’s about to really start sprinting when another blaster shot rings out behind him. He skids to a halt. 

 

There’s footsteps behind him, rapid and heavy, and he turns around with his hands half raised- but he sighs in relief when out of the darkness comes Keith, panting hard with a blaster clutched in his arm. 

 

“Here,” he says, tossing Lance the gun, “you’re the better shot.” 

 

Lance fiddles with the object for a moment, trying to seem uninterested in Keith’s safety. “Wow, you’re finally admitting I’m better than you-” 

 

“Lance, it’s not the time. There’s more goons on the way. We should get going.” Keith starts forward, but Lance catches his elbow and spins him around deftly. 

 

“Whoa whoa whoa, there, cowboy. Go where, exactly? We need a plan.” 

 

“What do you mean go where? Back to the pod so we can leave.” Keith states. 

 

“You don’t think they’ll have look outs at the spaceport? That’s if we even make it that far without getting lost.” 

 

“How would they even know where we parked?” 

 

Lance shrugs. “How much did you tell that Erru guy while you were hopped up on space ecstasy?” Judging by the glare Lance receives, Keith does not appreciate the question. “Fine then, genius. What should we do?” 

 

“I say we lay low, maybe until-” Lance stops himself short. 

 

_ There  _ is  _ no morning here.  _

 

Keith gestures for the Blue Paladin to continue impatiently. 

 

“Until the timer runs out. We can find a room, or alcove or something.” 

 

Keith shakes his head. “That’s a horrible idea- if we stay anywhere near this place I’m sure they’ll find us.” 

 

“We don’t even know who  _ they _ are, Keith. Maybe they’re undercover galactic cops or something.” Lance says. 

 

Keith is silent. 

 

“Did Erru say anything before you- you, uh-” 

 

“Shot and killed him?” 

 

Lance nods. 

 

“No. He started to say something about his boss, but then he attacked and I did what I had to.” 

 

“Okay.” Lance nods again, searching Keith’s face for any signs of distress. He takes a step closer. “For now, let’s just get out of this damn sector.” 

 

“Agreed.” Keith says, soft and calm. 

 

\-- 

 

It takes about five minutes for them to get caught again. 

 

They’re somewhere deep in the back alleys of this city sector, weaving in what Keith swears is the right way- but Lance feels a bit like they’re walking into the tip of the spear. The dark, cracked, and dirty metal walls are the same colors as the busier streets, only now the stars in the sky are a little more visible with no light to obscure them. Occasionally, one of the two boys bumps into a disposal unit or random piece of junk left lying haphazardly on the floor of the narrow alleys, but for the most part they slink around as silent as can be, listening for more trouble. 

 

As they make their way, Lance feels a blanket of guilt wrap around his shoulders. In just four hours he and Keith had collectively gotten into a bar fight, saved three women from sex trafficking, taken a random and unknown dose of space-E, and  _ killed two people _ . All because Lance had dragged Keith to what should have been the safest, most enjoyable planet that Voltron had visited yet. 

 

He’s loathe to admit it, but Keith may have been right. 

 

“I think we’re getting closer.” Keith’s sudden whisper jerks Lance out of his thoughts. The Blue Paladin presses up behind Keith as the latter peers around a corner, down yet another ominous alleyway. 

 

“How can you tell?” 

 

“I just- I don’t know. I feel it.”

 

Lance huffs. “Great, You feel it. Why don’t you just feel me some armor, or a Lion, or maybe some-” 

 

“Save your complaining for later. Look.” Keith’s hiked up whisper is jarring. 

 

Lance steps in front of Keith to look around the corner, hand and hip up against the wall, and he holds back a gasp at the sight of two more aliens, shrouded in the dark, rummaging through the junk and disposal units with blasters in hand. He retreats back, slowly. 

 

“What do we do now?”

 

“Outrun them? We have to go in that direction anyways.” Keith suggests. 

 

“No,” Lance shakes his head, “They’ll just call more people. We have to take them down.” 

 

“Okay. How? We only have one blaster.”  

 

Lance looks at their surroundings quickly, mind moving at rabbit-foot pace. He surveys the discarded trash around their feet, on the sides of the alley, and tucked into overflowing disposal units. A gleam from a unit a few feet behind them catches his eye. 

 

“Aha. Like this.” He steps towards the gleam and Keith follows, both of them walking on the balls of their feet. Lance gently removes the lid from the disposal unit, handing it to Keith, before sliding the shining object out from the trash. He turns around. 

 

Keith’s eyes light up when he sees the pipe, sleek and blunt but light enough to swing and rough enough to grip steadfastly. Lance grins. 

 

“Nice.” Keith says. He takes the pipe swiftly, feeling it out in his hands. “This’ll do.” 

 

A sound from the conjoining alley tells them that the enemies are getting closer, and Lance rushes back to the corner wall, blaster in his hand. “Here’s the plan. Let them get close, and then I’ll blast one. When the other turns, lunge for him.” 

 

“And if he shoots?” 

 

Lance gestures to the disposal unit lid, still grasped in Keith’s hand. 

 

“Okay.” Keith breathes. “I’m ready.” 

 

Lance nods. “On my mark.” 

 

They both lean back to the wall, straining to hear the aliens’ light conversation as they inch closer in their search. 

 

“Baabu said we’re not leaving until we find them, so quit whining.” The first one says, voice like gravel. 

 

“Yeah, I heard him. Doesn’t mean I like it. I’d rather be halfway to drunk over at Helza’s than be stuck sifting through trash for some pesky Earthlings.” The second replies. One of them kicks something across the floor. 

 

“So would we all. But you heard the boss- Earthlings are rare, and he wants to see them bleed for what they did to Erru and Yvmo.” 

 

_ Word sure travels fast out here,  _ Lance thinks. 

 

“I’m sure he’ll get some fat cash for the pieces, too.” The second one says, followed by a the crunch of glass shattering under a boot. “Bones and hair are in high demand right now.” 

 

Keith sucks in a breath next to Lance. 

 

“C’mon, man. I don’t even wanna know how you know that.” The first one responds, his voice firmer than before.

 

“Comes with spending time with the Boss. I’m becoming a businessman.” 

 

The second thug’s boasting tone resonates from only a few feet away. Lance takes that as his cue. He taps Keith’s wrist once, twice, three times- 

 

Keith swings out from the corner, into the alley with a yell to grab their attention, while Lance pops out just enough to aim his blaster. 

 

_ Breathe, and… _

 

His eye settles on the forehead of one of the hulking purple aliens, mouth open in surprise. He squeezes the trigger as he exhales, pinching both eyes shut before he sees the shot land. It hits dead on target, though (of course it does), and Lance through his eyelashes sees Keith bludgeon the second thug with the pipe, sending him reeling back. He’s not down yet though, pressing a hand into his pocket to set off a hideously loud alarm before fiddling with his own blaster. He barely lifts it before Keith is slamming the pipe into his wrist with a crack and shoulder-shoving him further down the alley. 

 

Lance steps all the way out of cover, raising his gun in case Keith needs it- but the Red Paladin, with another firm blow, takes the thug down. He stands over the body, shoulders tensed and ready to hit again- but Lance trots up to him, immediately covering one ear with his free hand. 

 

“Turn that thing off!” He shouts, looking down both ends of the alley in fear. 

 

Keith drops to his knees and fishes through the dead alien’s pocket, pulling out a small, weathered device with a blinking red light on the front. He presses the button on the grimy metal surface and the alarm aptly stops. The light doesn’t go out. 

 

“That was messy.” Keith states, makeshift weapons still clutched in his hands. He stands up briskly. “We have to move, now.” 

 

“Hold up.” Lance says quickly. He takes a few steps backwards to the first alien, ignoring the smoking hole in his head in favor of grabbing at his thigh holster. With some serious jiggling, he manages to get it off the body in one piece. He secures it around his own leg, attaching the top to the waistband of his pants. 

 

“Let’s go.” He says, shoving his blaster into the black holster. 

 

They make it a few paces away before another alien shows up at the end of the alley, obscured by the darkness. “There you are!” they shout, but before they can raise their gun Keith chucks his pipe at them, hitting them square in the head. It’s enough of a delay to get Lance and Keith sprinting in the opposite direction, past the first two bodies and the cross alley they’d emerged from. A few shots ring out behind them as they run, but thankfully none hit home. 

 

It’s Keith who spots the ladder, flinging himself onto it rather unceremoniously as two more aliens appear in the direction they’re heading. Lance follows eagerly, dread and blood pumping through his veins. 

 

More shots ring out and Lance barely has the time to think  _ these guys are piss-poor marksmen _ before Keith’s gloved hand is yanking him over the edge of the building, onto a rooftop. He scurries to his feet, chasing after Keith who’s already a few meters ahead, hopping over air ducts and stray pipes that dot the uneven landscape of the city’s roofs. 

 

Lance’s freerunning skills are a little clumsier than Keith’s perfectly agile technique, but he’s not doing half bad. 

 

(The bloodthirsty alien mercenaries behind him certainly served as motivation.) 

 

The Blue Paladin looks back for a minute, smiling a little when he sees that the thugs are nowhere in sight- but his expression turns quickly distraught when he looks forward again, only to find Keith missing as well. 

 

The thought of stopping to call out for Keith crosses his mind, but he keeps running, determined to completely escape the mercenaries with or without Keith at his side. 

 

_ I can do it,  _ he thinks. 

 

_ I can do it I can do it I can do it-  _

 

“Whoa-!” He yells as he sprints past a large electrical unit only to have his arm yanked inward, hard, and he flounders to a stop to see Keith hiding behind it, finger pressed to his lips. 

 

Lance nods once, then bends down to catch his breath. He stares at the gray-brown metal of the rooftop between his feet, hands on his knees. “Close call…” He whispers. 

 

“Yeah.” Keith says, ears perked up under his hair as he listens for the gruff voices of the aliens. The disposal unit lid sits on the floor next to him. 

 

“Good catch with that ladder.” Lance adds, flicking his wrist as he pants. “Really helped.” 

 

“Who the hell is Baabu?” Keith says, eyebrows knit together. He slides down the side of the electrical unit until he’s seated, knees drawn up to his chest. Lance notices that he’s barely out of breath. 

 

“I have no clue, but he sure has a lot of goons. Must be like, the alien capo of Tenebris.” 

 

Keith stares blankly. “What?” 

 

“Y’know, the capo? Bossman? The ringleader.” 

 

Keith nods, but obviously still doesn’t understand. Lance rolls his eyes. “Forget it.” He collapses next to Keith. 

 

“Well, if we were lost before, we’re really fucked now.” Keith says after a moment. 

 

Lance, despite the situation, is happy to just have a moment to sit and process everything. Somehow, this night has gone from melodramatic boy’s night out to the crime novel of the century- and, like before, Lance knows it’s his fault. 

 

It was him that pissed Keith off so much, him that couldn’t control himself, him that had to make everything seem less complicated and important than it really was. 

 

_ And look where that’s gotten me.  _ __  
  


“So you admit you were lost? I knew it.” Lance is too tired to smirk, but he knows it’s in his voice. 

 

Keith turns his head, irritated. “For once, can you stop trying to bait me into some petty fight? We could literally  _ die _ here, Lance. We need a fucking plan.” 

 

“I’m well aware of the situation, Keith. We wouldn’t be anywhere near this stuff if you hadn’t run off and gotten all cozy with a fucking mercenary-  _ after  _ taking a random pill from him!” 

 

Fire lights up in Keith’s eyes, and Lance knows he’s gonna burn. “I only did that stuff because  _ you _ are the most  _ insufferable, exploitative, toxic, and insensitive person in the whole damn Universe!” _

 

Looking back on it, that was probably the sentence that almost killed Lance the most- emotionally, sure, because for some reason he was just starting to see how Keith really felt about all this, but also literally, because a second of tense silent after that, three aliens appear, seemingly from thin air, surrounding the two Paladins with their blasters raised. 

 

“Shit.” Lance and Keith curse at the same time. 

 

Keith flings his round lid into the stomach of one of the aliens, another reptilian guy, but when he tries to dash away he’s caught by the second goon, a winged bird-creature. A blaster is pressed into his side, and Lance starts with worry.

 

“Relax, relax. We’ll come with you. There’s no need to shoot-” 

 

One of the aliens throws a small, spherical object at him that immediately begins leaking a thick black smoke. Lance barely has the time to reach for Keith weakly before he inhales, and everything fades into darkness. 

 

\-- 

 

Keith starts awake with a groan, low and rugged with the disuse of his voice. His muscles are tight and aching, especially his legs, and his brain feels like it’s submerged in twenty pounds of food goo. He feels a cold surface pressing on the skin of his fingertips, and when he rattles some kind of chain in attempt to flex his wrists he’s finally prompted to open his eyes. 

 

It’s dark, but it doesn’t take that much awareness to figure that he’s chained up in some cell, by the wrists and ankles to the wall behind him. He’s sitting as he was when the aliens ambushed him and Lance- 

 

_ Lance!  _

 

He snaps his head around, scanning the dark for the Blue Paladin, ignoring the spikes of pain that prickle at his nape. He breathes a sigh of relief when he sees Lance to his right- though, it is a bit surprising to find the taller boy hanging from the ceiling by his ankles, limp knuckles barely dragging against the cold, metal floor. 

 

For some reason, Keith’s first thought is how long Lance has been suspended like that-  _ can’t you die if all the blood goes to your head? _ \- but he shakes his head a little to clear his vision, and a more definitive Lance comes into view. 

 

The Blue Paladin has been stripped of his jacket and shirt, and his torso is slick with sweat (that glistens in the very minimal light that leaks in from the porthole in the cell door) and, oddly, discolored. Keith can’t quite tell in the dark, but small patches of darker skin seem strewn across the smooth plains of Lance’s lithe body. 

 

He looks down at himself and is relieved to see that he’s still clothed- though his jacket and belt is missing. He looks about the room. 

 

Straight ahead of him sits a few boxes, the corners sticking out from under a beige tarp. In the right corner is an ominous black shape that Keith figures must be a statue or idol of some kind. The walls of the cell are that same damn material as everything else on this planet, the brownish, dull metal staying smooth and refined across all planes of the room, except the front, on Keith’s left, where a tiny window resides. Just under it is some kind of colored metal mechanism, most likely for sliding food and other items through without having to open the door. 

 

Keith shivers involuntarily as his eyes fall on Lance again. Even in the rush of escape from before, Keith had still managed to admire Lance. His bravery and level-headedness was, as much as Keith hated to agree with Shiro, something the Red Paladin could learn from. Lance and Keith made a pretty damn good team when they have to. 

 

_ I just wish it was all the time.  _

 

But something tells him it won’t be. Can’t be, not after tonight and all the mistakes that they’ve made. He knew this would all be a bad idea. Something about a planet with no sun, no Galra; and to go to it with no Lions or weapons- Keith really should never have come. At least then, things would stay they were. 

 

But not after tonight. 

 

He can already imagine the mountains of scolding they’ll get from Shiro and Allura, the agitation and arguments he’ll have to play up with Lance in order to distance himself. The half-glances and the will-he-won’t-he game. 

 

He just can’t say no to Lance’s smile, or his laugh, or his cheery handholding, or his tipsy conversations, or his flirty looks, or his moves on the dancefloor (of course Keith remembers). 

 

Now, he’ll have to get them out of here alive and in one piece, and say yes to Lance one last time. 

 

“Lance.” He says, horrified by the sound of his voice in his ears. Like metal on gravel, his voice slips out of his throat with friction. “Lance.” 

 

The Blue Paladin does not stir. 

 

“Lance, come on. We have to get out of here.” 

 

Lance remains still, and Keith begins to panic. He tries to kick out at Lance’s dangling arms, but the chains keep him at bay. There’s no use in sitting up, either; he’s about to start shouting when a loud, creaking sound emits from the door. 

 

Something inside it turns, and it eases open, letting in a flood of emerald light behind it. A thick, heavy set alien walks in, humanoid, with watery brown skin, completely hairless. 

 

“Ahh, I see we’re awake now. Rise and shine, Earthling.” The slimy voice hits Keith’s ears softly, like a purr, and another tremor runs down his spine. 

 

“Baabu?” Keith croaks, looking up at the repulsive creature through his bangs. The alien’s face is big eyed and thin lipped, with yellow, sharp teeth and a small, flat nose. 

 

“Mmm. So you’re the smarter one, then? That explains why I couldn’t get anything out of this one here.” Baabu waves a pudgy hand at Lance’s body, and Keith looks back at the Blue Paladin in shock. 

 

Lance is speckled with bruises and small cuts, from his waistline to his neck, and one nasty gash streaks across his cheek like a divider. 

 

“What did you do.” Keith growls, the familiar feeling of anger sweeping in behind his surprise and stirring up one hell of a windstorm. 

 

“What I had to.” Baabu replies. He runs a grotesque finger down the middle of Lance’s abdomen. “You Earthlings are something special, you know.” 

 

“Get your hands off him!” Keith spits, frustrated that his voice is trembling and weak. “What do you want with us?” 

 

_ Try to get some information out of him, at least. Stall.  _

 

“I’m not quite sure yet. I think I’ll make more off his pieces than yours- but I’ll need to check with my shareholders to see if any slave dealers are in town, of course. Also, you were around when a messenger boy of mine got killed- and then you proceeded to kill four more of my men.” Baabu continues tracing his fingers over Lance’s body. The sight infuriates Keith further. 

 

“Shareholders? Messenger? What are you even talking about?” He gripes.

 

“Listen. I’m a businessman, you see. I own half of the people on this planet. Everything that happens happens through me. So when I heard two Earthlings- a rare sight, by the way- had killed my men on the field, I was forced to have you picked up for me.” 

 

“A capo.” Keith whispers, almost smiling to himself. 

 

“What?”

 

“I said, you’re a criminal and a kidnapper and I’ll tell everyone when I get out of here.” 

 

Baabu laughs then, a rumbling of dry thunder that rattles on the walls of the cell. “Tell who? Everyone already knows who I am and what I do, Earthling.” 

 

“Then I’ll tell the police.” 

 

“I own the police.” 

 

“Then I’ll stop you myself.” Keith challenges. His blood begins to boil when Baabu smiles directly at Lance’s face. 

 

“With what? You’re both chained up, fates doomed to my bidding. Who are you to stop me?” 

 

Keith bares his teeth in a snarl when he starts, “We are Pal-” 

 

Lance sputters awake and coughs violently, sending himself swinging like a pendulum. His eyes fall open, and widen in surprise when they see Keith and Baabu. 

 

“Please…” He whispers, and Keith feels his anger give way to fear and desperation at the sound of Lance’s weak, hoarse voice. “No more. I told you everything I know.”

 

_ What’s going on here? _

 

“Hush, hush.” Baabu says, cradling Lance’s upside down face in his thick palms. “I know you did.” 

 

“And we had a deal.” Lance continues. “You keep your hands off him.” He jerks his head in Keith’s direction, never once looking the Red Paladin in the eye. 

 

_ What is he- _

 

“Oh, I will. He’s no fun anyhow.” Baabu steps away from Lance slowly. “I’ll be back in just a moment, Earthlings. I need to grab something.” He leaves the door ajar when he exits the cell. 

 

“Lance, are you okay? Oh my god, this is crazy- we have to get out of here.” Keith whispers violently, tugging at his chains. 

 

Lance shakes his head, finally making eye contact with Keith- and he looks so hurt and scared that Keith wants to burn this whole damn planet to the ground. 

 

“Just trust me.” Lance says simply, and before Keith has a chance to ask what the fuck that means, Baabu parades back in with a short metal beam in his hands, one end thicker than the other. The crime lord tosses it between his two hands lightheartedly, looking Lance up and down, and that’s when Keith realizes what’s going on. 

 

“Hey, don’t- if you- I will slaughter you, asshole!” Keith stammers, but his breath is tremorous at best with looming dread. 

 

Lance’s body curls in on itself instinctively as Baabu comes within arm’s length of him, still toting the weapon around. 

 

“Stay quiet, Keith.” Lance whispers. He locks eyes with Baabu, challenging and valorous. 

 

“I recommend you listen to your friend, Earthling.” Baabu says. “He’s been quite clever this whole time, even if he’s unhelpful.” 

 

Keith’s about to yell in sheer frustration, with both Baabu and Lance being too cryptic in their speech to fucking  _ say _ anything- but it dies in his throat when Baabu brings the heavy metal beam into Lance’s ribs with force. 

 

Lance grunts in pain, arms drawing up from the floor to shield himself, but it’s futile when Baabu aims for his thigh next, then his shoulder, then stomach. 

 

“Stop!” The scream rips out of Keith, distraught and desperate. “Stop hurting him! Take me instead, I’ll tell you everything!” 

 

Baabu ignores him and continues to batter Lance like a caveman while Keith wonders how the hell an innocent night like this became so dark and twisted. 

 

The blows die down after a minute. The only sound in the cell is Lance’s shattered breaths and puny groans- Keith can’t help but think  _ the training simulations never prepared us for this. _

 

“Now, one of you tell me what I want to hear. Who are you? I know you’re not tourists. Earthlings have never been this far from home before.” Baabu growls, pressing the end of the pipe into Lance’s navel, watching the bruised boy flinch. 

 

“Don’t say anything, Keith.” Lance breathes, but his words carry little of the firmness he’s trying to convey. 

 

“If I tell you, will you stop hurting him?” Keith looks directly at the alien, fists clenched tight. 

 

“Naturally. I’m a businessman, not an animal.” Baabu answers. 

 

“Keith, don’t- I swear to god-” 

 

“I’ll tell you,” Keith cuts Lance off, “if you’ll unchain me and let me tend to him when you leave.” He jerks his head in Lance’s direction. 

 

Baabu considers, grotesque fingers stroking his multiple chins. He eyes Keith, likely looking for a sign of trickery on Keith’s part- but the time for dishonesty, at least in Keith’s eyes, is well over. Then, “Fine. You have a deal.” 

 

Keith nods. “We’re Paladins of Voltron.” 

 

The minute the words leave Keith’s mouth, he sees Lance go limp where he hangs, face beet red and damp with tears. Anguish drives at his heart, as well as sudden rage- but he sits still, waiting for Baabu’s reaction. 

 

The crime lord smiles, all sleazy yellow fangs and false promises. “Oh, that’s- that’s interesting indeed. That makes this much more profitable- I’ll hold up my end of the bargain, of course.” 

 

Without another word, he flees the cell again, and this time the door closes shut behind him with a clamor. The shackles on Keith’s ankles and wrists suddenly separate after a moment more, freeing him. A millisecond of hesitation and then he’s scrambling to his feet, disregarding the way his muscles beg him to sit again. 

 

“Lance! Holy shit.” He says, stooping down in front of the Blue Paladin to cling to the sides of his face. “Please tell me you’re okay.” 

 

Lance groans. “I’ll live. What’s got you so worried anyways?” He tries his usual demeanor, but it doesn’t fly right.

 

Keith sighs in relief, exasperation, and worry. “Please, Lance, let’s just get you out of here-” 

 

“Baabu knows who we are. He’ll kill us.” 

 

“Don’t think like that, Lance. You know damn well I’ll get us out of here-” 

 

“How, Keith?” Lance yells, suddenly, baring his teeth. “How the fuck are you gonna get us out of this one? I’ve been upside down for too long- I don’t have much time left. Even if we get out of this box, we’d have to find our way to the pod, deal with Baabu’s thugs- there’s just no way.” 

 

“Don’t you wanna go down swinging?” Keith cries in response, patting the side of Lance’s head roughly. “What kind of talk is this? We’re not gonna stay here- and neither of us are gonna die.” He stands upright, grabbing Lance’s shoulders. 

 

“What are you doing?” 

 

“Curl up, let’s get your blood flowing.” He grips Lance’s collarbone with a gloved hand on either side and heaves upwards, attempting to fold Lance in half. 

 

Lance grunts and groans as his bruises are agitated, but Keith feels him genuinely try to fold himself upwards. Gravity works against them until Lance is slumped in Keith’s arms, head knocking against his chest. 

 

“It’s not working- it hurts too much.” Lance gripes. “Let me fall.”

 

“No.” Keith says, pulling Lance’s torso further until the Blue Paladin is making a sort of hypotenuse from his ankle shackles to his head. 

 

“Keith, stop being so fucking stubborn and  _ drop me _ !” 

 

The Red Paladin lets go hastily after that, watching Lance swing back and forth until he’s still once more, long fingers glancing the floor. 

 

“You’re so irritating.” Lance whispers like it’s not meant to be heard, but Keith bristles. 

 

“I’m irritating? You’re the one who got us stuck on this planet in the first place!” 

 

“You abandoned me at the bar and got us involved with a goddamn mafia!” 

 

“I wouldn’t have fucking left if you’d just decided to be a decent human being to me for once.” Keith spits, and it’s venom and it hurts Lance like a blow from Baabu’s pipe. 

 

There’s thick silence in the stuffy cell, Lance having averted eye contact. Keith watches the Blue Paladin’s chest rise and fall, splotched with bruises. 

 

_ Everything’s a mess. _

 

“We’re supposed to be on the same side, y’know?” Keith speaks after a moment, more of a reprimand for himself than for Lance. 

 

“I know.” Lance says. “I’m sorry.” 

 

“Don’t, Lance.” Keith says, because he can see where this is going and he has a feeling that he’s not going to like it. He looks down into Lance’s blue eyes anyway, seeing the same pain, fear, and hopelessness that dances in his own stomach. 

 

“I’m sorry for being such an ass before. I never realized what all of this,” Lance gestures between the two of them, “was defined as to you. I figured it was all just a ploy, some yelling and a little irritation and eventually we’d wind down in one of our rooms- I didn’t think.” 

 

“Lance…” Keith whispers, breathing unsteadily. 

 

“I finally realized it when you got mad at the bar. I panicked, I’ve never- I didn’t know what to do. So I’m sorry for using you like that. I’m sorry for not taking you seriously.” Lance finishes with a huff. Before Keith can respond, he adds, “I’m losing consciousness.” 

 

“Stay with me, then.” 

 

“What?” 

 

“Stay with me, Lance. Right now, stay awake, and when we get out of here- stay with me.” Keith says it because there’s nothing else to say, no more dancing around it. The time for chicken shit games and playground tactics is over. 

 

“Keith… I don’t know if I can. I’ve never-”

 

“What are you so afraid of?” Keith cuts him off, challenging. 

 

“I’m not scared. Just wary.” 

 

“Of?” 

 

“Of what I’ll do to you.” 

 

Keith is about to answer when the door mechanism begins creaking again, and Baabu struts back in with a gleam of malcontent in his cloudy, bulging eyes. 

 

“Paladins. I have a buyer lined up- maybe you’ve heard of him, a mister Emperor Zarkon, Ruler of the Known Universe? I’ll be making a hefty sum off the sale, too.” He laughs meagerly, like a weasel.  

 

“You’re a real sleaze bag, dude.” Lance says, and Keith knows as well as Lance that bringing the Galra into this was only gonna make things infinitely worse.  

 

He looks past Baabu, out into whatever room lies beyond the cell. He ignores all the features, colors, everything- until his eyes settle on the sparkle of a blaster, resting on a majestic, wooden desk just outside the door on the opposite wall. Next to it lies a small control panel, one that no doubt controls the cell mechanisms- if Keith could just get to it, he could free Lance and take Baabu down in one move. 

 

“I’m a profiteer, boy. Now, I let you have your fun, but it’s time to get back over there.” He points a finger at Keith’s shackles impatiently. “The Empire will be here shortly and I don’t have time to deal with insubordination.” 

 

Keith moves in that direction slowly, but not before shooting Lance a look that he hopes says  _ I have a plan. _

 

Lance nods minutely, his face saying  _ got it, I’ll talk,  _ while his eyes say  _ I just wish we had a moment to talk.  _

 

Keith agrees with that. 

 

“Why would you bring the Empire here?” Lance starts, wrangling for Baabu’s attention. “Isn’t Tenebris independent of Imperial rule?” 

 

Keith scoots an inch closer to the door. 

 

“I’m basically king of this planet, Earthling- Tenebris is what I say it is.” Baabu answers absently, fiddling with a small but recognizable device on which he seems to do his business.

 

“How do you know the Galra won’t scam you? They’ve never been fair or trusting in the past.” Lance says quickly. 

 

Another inch. 

 

“I’ll have my men with me to spot and resist any unjust action.” Baabu looks up from the tiny screen on his communicator to eye Lance curiously. “Why are you interested anyway, boy? You’ll be dead within the next day.” 

 

Lance shrugs arrogantly, even while upside down. 

 

“What’s a day on Tenebris?” 

 

Keith lunges out the door, stumbling across the open room and colliding into the massive desk with a loud clatter. He slams his hand on the biggest button on the control panel arbitrarily, thanking the stars when he hears Lance’s shackles release and drop him to the floor with a grunt. With that taken care of, he snatches the blaster up and turns around- but Baabu’s gigantic mass is on him too quick, batting Keith away and onto the rustic floor. 

 

The room, as Keith briefly surveys it, is high up in a building somewhere, far from where he and Lance were caught. Large windows on the wall towards which Keith faces display the city below, flashing in its millions of lights and sounds. The floor is a warm chocolate color, darker than the walls, and the furniture is a deep, ominous black. Along the right wall is a neon white bar of some kind, and on the opposite of that are numerous bookshelves. Interestingly enough, there’s little to no electronics around. The desk behind him is likely Baabu’s personal workspace, Keith realizes, and that makes their “cell” some kind of storage closet.

 

The blaster lands a few feet off to Keith’s side after his fall, primed for use, but before he can even think to scramble for it Baabu is gripping him by the collar of his shirt, lifting him effortlessly into the air. He kicks at the alien’s body, but the rolls of thick blubber seem to absorb even the most brutal force. 

 

“Nice try, Earthling. But I promise, trying to escape isn’t worth it.” Baabu taunts, smiling that disgusting smile again. 

 

Keith wriggles in his grip, wishing he had his knife right about now, and definitely wondering where the hell Lance is, if he’s okay in there- but then he’s sailing through the air, hitting the floor hard on his back with his side pressed up against the window on the far wall. 

 

_ There’s some serious strength in him. I need to distance myself.  _

 

By the time he’s on his feet again, Baabu has the blaster trained on his head, making his way over from where he’d thrown Keith. 

 

“You’ve got fight in you, I’ll admit,” Baabu says, “but it’s time to give up. The Galra will be here soon, and then- even if you were to escape- they’d find you and take you in.” He looms over Keith, forcefully flipping the Red Paladin around and pressing his chest into the glass of the window. “I think you think that you mean something- I bet you think you’re powerful, better than everyone, because you’re part of Voltron. But let me tell you something. Baabu points the barrel of the blaster at the city below. “You mean no more to this Universe than a speck of light down there. That’s all you and your friends are in history. A morsel of light. And just like those lights down there,” Baabu says, yanking harshly back on Keith’s hair, forcing him to look up, “These ones die out too. All of them are just specks from my point of view.” 

 

“Other than revealing your entire life story to us in a monologue, you seem pretty damn unique from the villains we usually face, Baabu.” Lance’s voice carries over the terse atmosphere, and Keith almost laughs when he catches sight of the Blue Paladin in the reflection of the window, leaning up against the bar behind them. Somehow he’s got his own blaster, twirling haphazardly in his free hand. He’s wobbly and pale, but determined- and Keith has never been more attracted to someone in his life. 

 

Baabu growls then, deep in his throat, in pure agitation. He turns Keith around again, keeping his thick arm around the Red Paladin’s neck and pressing the barrel of the blaster to his head. “You Paladins are such pests.” 

 

“Hey, don’t look at me. I just ruined your deal with the Galra right now and told all your foot soldiers that some random guy on your contacts list was the real alien murderer tonight. Oh yeah, I see that surprise in your eyes. I pulled it all off with your little communicator thingy when you left it in the closet with me. Now the Galra think that you made a bad call- I can’t believe they thought I was you; my performance was mediocre at best.” Lance laughs brightly, then sighs. “No one’s coming for you Baabu.” His face sobers into something dangerous. He lifts his gun. “Let us go.” 

 

“You’re bluffing.” The alien says, jostling Keith a little to prove his point. He fingers the trigger of the gun. “There’s no way you fooled them- they know my voice.  _ Everyone knows me! _ ” The scream pounds into Keith’s ear as he watches Lance work his magic.  

 

“Baabu, baby. You keep doing this whole ‘underestimating us’ thing, and it’s just not working. I’m a fucking Paladin of Voltron. Do you really wanna take these odds?” Lance fingers his own gun. 

 

“If you shoot, he dies.” Baabu spits, slamming the blaster into Keith’s temple. 

 

“So you believe me? Good. Now listen up. _ I will kill you where you stand. _ ” Lance is still so stern, the gash on his cheek making him look decades older and more mature. 

 

“Give me my communicator, and you can walk.” Baabu says after a tense moment. 

 

Keith nods at Lance, prompting the Blue Paladin to do whatever he’s gonna do soon- the maniacal alien crime boss isn’t getting any calmer. 

 

“You’ll let both of us walk?” Lance says for clarity. 

 

“Yes. Just hand me my communicator, and we’ll have nevr met.” Baabu replies. 

 

Lance, innocently, fishes the device out from the back of his waistband and throws it at Baabu’s feet from across the room. “Now let us go.” 

 

Keith, being pressed so firmly against Baabu’s slimy body, is able to feel the exact moment when the alien begins to move to fire on Lance. His big muscles harden and jerk, and pressure of the blaster barrel on his head lessens by the slightest amount- and before he can really decide whether or not he should, Keith writhes out of Baabu’s grip with all his strength and diverts the barrel to his stomach in one quick maneuver, right as Baabu pulls the trigger. 

 

Then, it’s just pain. 

 

A searing, needling agony rips across Keith’s midsection like a wildfire in an instant, setting his nerves ablaze. He collapses to the floor, unable to think, to move, to breathe as he clutches the cauterized hole in his stomach. 

 

Lance screams loud enough for Keith to hear over the ringing in his ears. He turns his head for a blurry, distorted view of Lance and Baabu, having ditched the blasters, brawling in front of the bar. Lance smashes several bottles over the alien’s head, but his attacks are futile as Baabu swats him to the floor. 

 

“You murder my men, I murder yours!” Keith makes out, and Baabu presses his thumb to a hidden button on the side of his device that sets alarms ringing all across the room. Lance manages to unload a scavenged blaster into Baabu after that, and his ginormous body crashes to the ground like thunder. 

 

After that, Keith, still dying of agony, sees Lance pointing towards the window, screaming “Black! Black!” 

 

Then, darkness. 

 

\--

 

The lights of the cryopod chamber are too damn bright when Keith awakens, stumbling onto the cold, sleek floors of the Castle. 

 

Everyone is there, waiting. Coran, Allura, and Shiro, all relieved but disappointed. Hunk and Pidge, curious and excited. And Lance.

 

Lance, in his own off-white pod suit, with a blanket over his shoulders and the most earnest look Keith has ever seen on him. 

 

“Hey, Keith.” Shiro says, but the Red Paladin ignores him. 

 

He marches right up to Lance, despite his dizziness, and, disregarding the confused and slightly scared expression on Lance’s face, slams their mouths together in front of everyone. He kisses Lance hotly, vigorously, uncaring whether or not he can feel the Blue Paladin reciprocating- this was something that needed to be done a long time ago, on an observation deck, in a bar, on the dancefloor, in an alley. This was closure. 

 

He detaches from Lance only after a full minute, glad to see Lance wide eyed and disheveled. He turns to the rest of the group, meeting their shocked faces with indifference. 

 

“I know we fucked up, and I know the stakes of what we did. But Lance and I have to go talk, like adults. After that, you can scold us all you want. And no Pidge, at the moment I don’t really care how you managed to track us down, even without our equipment.” 

 

He pivots on his heel as if to say ‘good day’, and with a gentle hand around Lance’s wrist, walks towards his room confidently. Lance follows like a dog. 

 

\--

 

“Holy shit.” 

 

“Language, Pidge.” Shiro reprimands automatically, still staring at where the Red and Blue Paladins have just disappeared. 

 

“Are you really gonna let them leave?” Pidge responds. “They should be so fucking grounded for what they did- that must have been one hell of a night.” 

 

“Dude, I don’t even want to think about it. Lance was so beat up.” Hunks says. “We’re lucky we could track the pod’s exhaust trail so long after it was used, otherwise they could be dead.” 

 

“Honestly, Shiro and Allura will probably kill them anyways. Right guys?” Pidge says. Her eyes shine curiously behind her glasses. 

 

“Oh believe me, there aren’t words in Altean or Earth-speak to describe the punishment those two will be receiving.” Allura responds, but Shiro knows they’re already on the same page. Her own lips are fighting a small quirk as she recalls what they just saw. 

 

“Let’s let them have their moment before I tell them all the things they’ll be cleaning for the next decapheeb.” Coran says, and everyone laughs. 

 

Shiro, still looking at the door, smiles fondly to himself. 

 

_ It’s about damn time.  _  
  


  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Phewwww. What a monstrosity, right? This is the longest thing I've ever written.   
> Would you believe me if I told you that this whole thing was born of me wanting to write that tiny end scene where Keith tears out of healing pod and kisses Lance in passionate fervor?  
> If you've got something you just gotta say, leave a comment down below or come find me at calicothunder.tumblr.com!!!  
> Thanks for reading, Comments and kudos are one million percent appreciated. <3 
> 
> (psst Tenebris means darkness in Latin)


End file.
